


The Quest.  1-4/4.

by punky_96



Category: Switch(1991), The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderswap, female character temporarily comes back in male form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14239065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-Post from way back on LJ ;)No character death. Miranda Priestly has gone missing… What will happen now?DWP Ficfest Prompt: #56. Miranda/Andy. Boy!Miranda. How Miranda obtains her new package is entirely up to you. Oh, and this is entirely optional, whether or not her new appendage is temporary or not, it'd be nice if you could work in a surprise pregnancy for Andy.As per usual, I had to twist the prompt a bit:  No character death but still based on the 1991 movie “Switch.” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103016/There is no date-rape either like Switch.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Ragelikeafire

_**The Quest—Part 1/4** _

Andrea entered the office earlier than usual. Miranda was due back from the Brazil shoot and she wanted to make sure that the grumpy traveler had less rather than more reasons to treat everyone like the lemmings that they were. Checking the clock again she went through her ‘to do’ list: the magazines in order, the San Pellegrino ready to drink, the schedule confirmed, and the art department quaking in fear. For her part, Andrea’s outfit was settled to the best of her ability to satisfy her demanding boss. The allotted time for her arrival came and went. The clock in the outer office ticked. The office was quiet and lonely without Emily and Andrea had the fleeting feeling that she might actually miss the arrogant British woman.

Willing the phone to ring, tapping her pencil, checking the clock and the elevator doors like a mad woman Andrea sat at her desk. The elevator finally dinged and Andrea shot up out of her desk and flew around it to greet the silver haired devil of a boss that she had fallen in love with. Instead, Nigel’s grim visage stalked through the doors a full twenty minutes after Miranda was scheduled to arrive. Andrea tried to not be disappointed.

“What a circus.” He hissed as he approached a very confused Andrea. “I’ll need her schedule.” He said tiredly as he walked by and into the devil’s office.

Andrea stood confused staring after him for many moments. The phone ringing registered in her mind, but did not move her. Nigel looked up from the editor’s desk where he was still standing and looking at papers. “You’ll have a lot of calls today. The press is going to be vicious.”

Andrea’s features wrinkled up in confusion. “What?” She whimpered.

Nigel looked up at her still very much fresh off the prairie confusion. “You haven’t seen the news?” It was a tone of sadness, surprise, concern, and frustration.

Andrea shook her head in the negative. Nigel sucked in a slow breath and then exhaled it. He came back around the editor’s desk and leaned against it beckoning Andrea to sit in one of the chairs opposite him.

“Miranda is missing.”

Andrea gripped the edge of the chair with one hand and covered her mouth with the other.

Nigel wasn’t sure how she would hold up, but he wanted he needed to know if she was going to be useful for the day or not so he carried on. “She was last seen 53 hours ago. The Brazilian authorities have been searching since Monday morning when we reported her missing.”

***

Miranda looked around her. She was in her same clothes from before this horrible nightmare began. However, she was not soiled or wrinkled, as she knew she surely should be. She looked at her hands and arms, tested her legs, and reached fearful hands up to her face to feel for cuts, bleeding, bruising. Finding none, she thanked who ever was responsible and asked them just what was going on. Silence was her only answer. She turned a slow circle trying to figure out where she was. There seemed to be nothing but the vast plain she was standing on. It looked like the clearing near the hotel by the shoot. Why she had agreed to come to Brazil and Argentina for a shoot, was a mystery to her. ‘Seriously didn’t they grow coffee in some of these countries?’

Foz do Iguaçu. Beautiful to be sure, but private jets, private busses, remote resorts.

It was all ludicrously inconvenient. Part of her mind flashed to the bus ride Kathleen Turner took in “Romancing the Stone” and she shook her head at the horror of it. More than one country just to get the shots that they wanted, Miranda shook her head. Emily had been ready to pull her hair out, which only served to aggravate Miranda even more. She counted on her assistants to not only take care of everything, but to remain calm and to bring a sense of peace to her day. When they didn’t, which was most of the time, she made their lives a living hell. When they openly were suffering, she was more malignant than usual.

The former employees who had had it in for her somehow lurked in her mind’s eye, just out of her reach.

Miranda’s body tensed at the memory of walking to her little cabana from the main lodge. It was dark and she had been grabbed from behind. Her world went dark but she could feel cold hands on her skin, she could feel them pulling her away from her cabana and the main lodge and after that, she lost her sense of direction. It was unnerving to feel someone waiting in the shadows of the remote resort, it was as if she was blind and didn’t know where she was or where she was being taken. Her hearing remained uncompromised; however, it rather served to heighten her discomfort, as she could not make sense of the various noises she heard.

As Miranda looked around again, she thought she could make out what looked like the clearing near the hotel; this meant that there would be people around. People like Alicia and Illiliana who had surprised her by coming back with a vengeance after all these years. Miranda narrowed her eyes and looked herself over once more. Then she looked around again in a big circle. No, this was definitely not the same place. There was nothing here, just endless space, Miranda stopped halfway around and stared. Where there had been nothing minutes before there was a small house in the middle distance.

Having no other particular option and not wanting to stay where she was and do nothing, Miranda started walking.

***

“What is the official statement I should give, Nigel? Have you assumed leadership of Runway? What is going on? What about Irv?”

Nigel held up a hand to stop Andrea. “We don’t have a lot of answers right now. Irv has been notified. I am in charge of Runway in that I will try to help keep things going with what we know to do.” Pausing Nigel looked over Andrea into the outer office wondering what he had gotten himself into. “As for the press why don’t you draft up something and I’ll take a look at it. I need to call the Brazilian police for an update. Come back in ten minutes.”

Looking like someone stole the stars from her sky Andrea simply nodded.

***

Entering the hut Miranda saw a figure sitting in a comfortable chair looking relaxed and almost amused. “How long were you going to stand out there?”

Miranda glowered at the Being, her irritation skyrocketing. She put one hand on her hip as she shifted her weight. The Being was amused. In fact, it snickered at her then leaned forward to laugh fully at her.

“What is all of this?” Miranda asked primly.

The Being appeared to sit up and take a deep breath in an effort to control its giggles, but Miranda could still tell it was very happy with its joke at her expense. It motioned to the chair next to it that Miranda was sure wasn’t there a moment before. “You really should be friendlier, Miranda. I’m trying to decide your fate.”

Miranda stared at the Being with narrowed eyes. “Did those… incompetents kill me off then? Finally? And now I’m sent to you? You—who cannot decide what to do with me. You—who offer no answers and bring no ideas to me. Why did you even come to work today?”

Amused the Being let out a chortle of laughter. “You should not insult the one who is deliberating about your fate, Miranda. The outcome could be very disastrous for your soul, you know?”

***

“Well Six.” Nigel looked up as Andre approached the desk. “What have you come up with?”  
Andrea looked up from her computer screen the apprehension and sadness immediately apparent on her face. “Oh, Nigel. This is awful.”

Letting out a big sigh Nigel hoped that they would all be able to keep the ship afloat until Miranda was found. She was a dragon and a demanding boss that drove everyone crazy, but she was also the captain of this ship and would be greatly displeased if she came back to find them all floundering around. “I know, Six. But we have to keep the ship running until she is found. Think about her reaction if she comes back and we’ve been acting like lost puppies.”

Andrea bit her lip as she considered the wrath of Miranda if she came back to a disheveled Runway. “Yeah. It will keep us busy too, huh?” Nigel nodded. Sliding the paper towards him Andrea followed her hand with sad brown eyes. “This is what I came up with.”

Miranda Priestly disappeared while on location for a photography shoot in Brazil near Foz do Iguaçu. She was last seen Sunday evening by her staff at the remote hotel. She was reported missing Monday morning and Brazilian authorities are working to locate her. They are updating the Runway staff and family regularly to keep them up to date with investigation details. It is asked that the family not be contacted out of respect for their feelings. When more concrete information is available, it will be released under the permission of her ex-husband and her daughters. There is no other comment at this time.

Nigel looked up from the short press blurb impressed that Andrea had created it in such a short amount of time. Together they picked the words apart and streamlined the syntax so that it was as short as possible while still sharing the necessary information. Nigel was glad that Andrea was able to keep her cool as she focused on her task. He really thought she was going to lose it when he first came in. It would be beyond him to fire Andrea, especially in Miranda’s absence, but if she lost her cool completely he would have been forced to send her home for the day.

***

“You have led an unusual life, Miranda.”

She grunted in return.

“Had those two women not interfered, I was happy to let you live your days and let you decide this for yourself. I don’t want to have those twins alone with their father though. So, I will give you a chance to shift the balance from hell to heaven or back.”

Miranda looked at the being incredulously. “You are the one to decide if I go to heaven or hell? Because those idiots have killed me?”

The Being looked at her with sharp eyes. “Those idiots.” The Being fixed her with a glare. “Left you for dead in a place that no one is going to find you. Your body is hovering on the edge of life. A village healer is tending to you, but no one is going to find you for some time.”

Miranda closed her eyes in frustration. No matter how incompetent this Being claimed to be, she knew the situation was out of her control. If she could comprehend, or if she had more knowledge then maybe she could work within the system, but as it was right now—she was at the Being’s mercy.

Receiving no flippant remark the Being looked Miranda over in a contemplative way. When Miranda opened her eyes it was looking right into her eyes.

Defeated for the first time in all of her years Miranda asked, “What do I need to do?”

“Go back and find a Runway employee that truly respects and likes you despite your… faults.”

Miranda snorted. Runway, hell, fashion in general, was a writhing pit of vipers—in her opinion true respect and genuine affection were luxuries. As such it would be like finding a diamond the size of her head.

“And—”

Miranda fixed him with her most cutting editor’s glare. “What? That’s not miracle enough for you?” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead in exasperation.

The Being crossed its hands over its chest and gave her a look that said, ‘I am sooo tired of listening to your smart ass comments.’

Miranda was offended that this celestial being would be cursing so clearly even in its own thoughts. The Being smirked at her as she thought that one.

“And.” It continued. “You have to find someone who loves you. Not merely wants to use you or kind of loves you, but truly completely wholly loves you.”

Miranda would not be bested by an androgynous fashion disaster. She turned on her inner ice queen and in a low voice she answered its challenge. “I have accomplished every challenge ever given to me.” Miranda challenged the Being with her piercing blue eyes. “This should be easy enough to accomplish.”

The Being found her bravado amusing and very typical of what had put her in this position in the first place. ‘Pride goeth before a fall.’ The Being thought as it looked right back at her. Taking a deep breath before setting the final condition it said. “Oh, did I not mention that you have to do this as a man?”

Miranda snorted. “Even easier. Like Ginger Rogers all women have to work harder. They do as much or more than men backwards and on high heels.”

The two beings stood looking intently at each other.

“Find an underling that likes me.” Miranda reached for sunglasses that were not on her head and rolled her eyes. “And true love.” The Being nodded to confirm her assignment.

“Do this and I don’t have to decide. You can go back, Miranda, to your life.”

***

Andrea had nearly made it to the end of the day. She was going to go to dinner to refresh her mind and soul after a harrowing day helping Nigel navigate through Miranda’s schedule. Between the incessant phone ringing and his need for information she felt well and truly like she had run the Iditarod as one of the dogs. An unknown coffee shop with sandwiches down the street from Elias Clark was the perfect place for her to warm her heart around a giant mug of coffee and to soak in the day. In the final half hour before the close of business Andrea’s mind had started to space out thinking of it. The chime of the elevator and subsequent drop in air temperature rattled her back into the present.

Emily was back.

The elevator dinged and Andrea braced herself. She watched a wilted Emily step out of the elevator and approach on less than bouncy steps. Andrea really wasn’t sure what condition Emily would be in, or whether she could handle the sour Brit at the present time. She looked pleadingly in the direction of Miranda’s office hoping that Nigel or at least some divine force would intervene on her behalf.

Emily threw her things on her desk. She let out a big sigh as she too looked toward Miranda’s office. Everyone would normally breathe a sigh of relief that Miranda was gone, but this was different. All the employees were behaving differently as well. Something serious instead of celebratory had settled in on them all like a fog. Miranda was not simply in the Hamptons with the girls, nor was she at a fashion week terrorizing the locals. This time she was gone mysteriously and indefinitely. It certainly did not feel like the cat was gone and the mice could play. Now it was as if the Lioness was gone. Miranda was the Queen of the pride. She guided them through life and was the source of their success. Her sudden absence was cause for mourning and a dull confusion to settle in on them.

Watching Emily it seemed to Andrea that no one was more surprised at this reaction than Emily herself.

Quietly turning to Andrea the red head asked her, “How did it go today?”

Andrea simply nodded. It was not an answer, but an acknowledgement that the day had in fact happened. The phone rang and Nigel called Emily. They were swept in their separate directions. Andrea recited her statement to the 500th member of the press to call. Once she was off the phone she was sent out for a last minute Starbucks order.

‘At least,’ she thought, ‘I can go home after that since they will stay to go over the Book.’

Andrea slipped away after the coffee to settle into her own end of the day haze in the coffee shop before she wandered to the subway and her home.

***

“Well, this is interesting.” Miranda harrumphed to herself as ‘she’ stood in front of the bedroom mirror. “At least I look like I belong at Runway.” Miranda turned and looked at ‘her’ physique a while longer. The silver hair stayed with ‘her’ but instead of slightly drooping breasts ‘she’ had a firm chest. The nipples were just as sensitive ‘she’ found as ‘she’ ran ‘her’ fingertips over them. ‘She’ bit ‘her’ lip watching them harden into almost familiar peaks.

Miranda slid ‘her’ hands down the sides of ‘her’ rib cage and at ‘her’ hips ‘she’ angled into the center. Knowing one was now a man, and feeling that fact with your bare hand were two different things. With a gasp ‘she’ realized that ‘she’ had the age old problem of morning wood like so many other MEN in the world. “The Being didn’t say anything about that!” ‘She’ pushed down on ‘her’ new appendage watching it bob back up rebelliously. Thinking of tight briefs Miranda rolled ‘her’ eyes. Giving ‘herself’ an exasperated look Miranda ran ‘her’ fingers through ‘her’ hair surprised when the slightly longish locks settled handsomely into place.

‘She’ stood arms akimbo looking at ‘herself’ in the mirror. “It would seem the lock of hair has manifested itself as—” Miranda motioned down at ‘her’ new appendage. ‘She’ gave ‘herself’ the death glare in the mirror and turned away to hop in the shower. “At least I still have a small collection of mens’ products. And I know what Stephen used to do about THIS problem.” ‘She’ muttered to ‘herself’ as ‘she’ adjusted the shower taps and then got in.

Toweling off, Miranda was careful not to disturb the rebellious appendage. As pleasant of a distraction as it was to subdue, Miranda knew that ‘she’ had an impossible mission to accomplish and ‘she’ didn’t want to be late on ‘her’ first day as a man. “First day as a man. Oh God.” Miranda rolled ‘her’ eyes.

“Roy? Why are you not at Miranda’s house?” Miranda quietly intoned into the house phone.

“I, uh, what?” He asked confused.

“Be at the townhouse in ten minutes.” Miranda hung up the phone frowning at the echo of ‘her’ man’s voice in the quiet room. It occurred to ‘her’ as ‘she’ sat waiting in the front room that Roy might not come. Or that when he did come he would not take ‘her’ anywhere. However ‘she’ thought that the caller ID would tell him who was calling enough to get him to the townhouse and bravado would have to convince him of the rest.

Fingertips tapping against her lips ‘she’ thought a moment. “A brother. A twin.” ‘She’ smiled wickedly at this—an image of Emily ready to faint at the thought of twin Miranda’s was delicious. “I have a twin brother named…” There was no doubt that they would believe ‘her.’ In fact the twin aspect made it all the more believable than just a random brother come from nowhere. ‘She’ glanced around the room. “What will he be named?” Miranda drew in a breath as ‘she’ stood and approached the black and white family photos. Surely a name would suggest itself. Just as ‘she’ heard the car pull up outside the light of an idea formed in her head. ‘She’ nodded once at the photographs and went to start ‘her’ mission: employee that liked her and true love. ‘No problem,’ ‘she’ thought as ‘she’ rolled ‘her’ eyes.

“You will pick me up everyday at the usual time, Roy. Runway can’t be kept waiting.” Miranda fixed him with a stern look before slipping into the back seat of the car.

***

“What?!” Andrea asked when she saw Roy’s name on her cell phone. She didn’t mean to snap at him, but couldn’t imagine what he needed to talk to her about. Miranda was gone and he had an indefinite amount of time off on the Elias Clark dime.

“I just picked up…” There was a pause on the other end of the line and Andrea growled in frustration.

“You what?”

“I just picked up what I presume to be Miranda’s brother.”

“Emily!”

The Brit looked away from her conversation with Nigel in Miranda’s office.

“Does Miranda have a brother?”

“Are you kidding me? Hang up the phone, Andrea. That’s clearly a crackpot.”

“It’s Roy.” She said and pointed at the phone.

“Give me that.” Emily said as she stomped forward with her hand extended for the phone.

“Roy. You know as well as I do that Miranda does not have a brother.”

“I do. I do, indeed, Emily.” Roy nearly laughed. They were almost at Elias Clark and he would be glad to drop this metaphorical bomb at the doorstep and into Emily’s lap. “However I got a call from Miranda’s private line this morning at the usual time demanding to know where I was. When I got there a man just as silver, slim, and smooth as Miranda stepped out, gave me the arctic once over and slid into the back of the car. It was identical to how Miranda would have done it—except no sunglasses.”

“Roy. Roy. Is this some kind of joke?!” Her voice rose until it was a screech. Andrea put her hands over her ears and Nigel looked up from the barely structured chaos on the desk in front of him.

“ETA. Five minutes. No joke, Emily.” With that Roy hung up. He felt bad for Emily, but after all the times he had been hung up on after some ridiculous request that was a real request—well, he felt rather justified.

Emily stood in shock many moments just blinking. Nigel stopped at Andrea’s desk on the way back down to the art department a large folder tucked under his arm. He held it up and asked, “What’s with her?” Indicating Emily.

“Roy said he is bringing Miranda’s brother here.” Andrea said without missing a beat.

Nigel looked agog at Andrea and then said, “I’ll be down in Art. Call me when he arrives. This I have to see.” A few steps away he turned back thinking of something else. “Oh, call security and tell them to have two guards up here just in case it’s one of the crazies.”He rolled his eyes muttering as he went, “Fictional Brother… That’s all we need.”

Andrea nodded again to herself as she wondered what the hell the world was coming to: Miranda Priestly missing and her fictional brother showing up. Really what else was going to happen? “Security?”

***

‘Five minutes,’ Roy had said. Emily wasted two standing there. The remaining three were spent in confused explanations and flailing arms. Andrea was waiting for Emily to literally run herself into circles. She almost took out her cell phone to video the scene. Knowing this ‘brother Priestly’ was downstairs, approaching the elevator, riding up, and would be upon them in the next moment was intensely freaky for Andrea and Emily. Normally they would rush about laying out magazines in perfect formation, pouring the San Pellegrino, and making sure to have piping hot Starbucks at the ready. Accepted fact told them this was not Miranda Priestly’s brother but some fictional character. This fact jarred their reality and short-circuited them both. As it was not Miranda, but Miranda’s fictional brother, they were held in an unsure stasis as their hearts beat in their chests and they waited for the fight or flight response to kick in and send them scurrying off like the rabbits that they were.

A tall white haired impeccably dressed man who could be on the cover of Runway, and who indeed looked rather like Miranda stepped out of the elevator. If Miranda was the silver dragon breathing ice fire and holding people in awe, then this man was the silver fox sliding in unsuspected with a feather in his jaw. He did not look around uncertainly, rather he stepped forward like he was the king and this was his castle. Runway was his first and best beloved chicken coop. Emily and Andrea had been engaged in a battle of what to do in the middle of the desk area. They stepped suddenly apart as they were fixed with incredibly familiar piercing blue eyes. The phone rang and the man arched his eyebrow at Emily. She squeaked and ran around her desk to answer. Both were fierce predators:the dragon and the fox. One used the deceptively soft whisper and flexing of dragon’s tail. The other used the sparkle of an eye and the hint of danger in the practiced crouch of the hidden hunter fox.

Giving Andrea a passing glare he stepped into his office turning at the desk to ask in a low, cold tone, “Why is my coffee not here?Are pigs flying? Is there a third assistant on the way that I don’t know about?” The eyes pinning her were of the fox, but the force of the words hitting her was all dragon tail. The animal may have changed, but Andrea could still sense that Priestly danger in the air.

Andrea squeaked and fled like Emily. Her steps hit the lobby floor clacking as her fingertips hit the keypad on her phone. “What Starbucks do I get?”

Andrea could hear Emily’s eye roll and she winced. “The usual. He seems to want to be Miranda.” The phone went dead as Andrea heard an almost familiar drawl in the background.

“Emmm-illll-eeeee.”

Squaring her shoulders and drawing in a breath of fortifying air Emily stepped into the outer office. “Yes…” Emily stammered. You were not to ask Miranda a question. However this was not Miranda. ‘However, however, however this was not Miranda.’ Emily thought her head might pop off in the seconds that it took her brain to process what to call this, this, this… PERSON.

“Mitchell.” The man fixed her with a level gaze daring her to think and speak. “Mitchell Priestly.” He said firmly. Blinking once to snap Emily out of it he continued. “Tell Nigel I want to see his notes from the Foz do Iguaçu shoot and a full report about yesterday. That’s all.” He turned to look down at the mess that passed for Miranda’s desk today. He pursed his lip in dissatisfaction. Clearly even one day of absence was enough for Runway to begin its decline into the Age of Darkness.

Emily stood there dazzled and dazed her mouth not working, her limbs clearly not getting the message from her malfunctioning brain to clear out and get to work.

Mitchell fixed her with a glare and in a low silken voice almost like Miranda’s but more syrupy he said, “Emmm-illll-eeeee.” When the shocked woman looked at him again he added, “Today. Emily. Get Nigel. Today.”

 

x


	2. Two

_**The Quest—Part 2/4** _

“Nigel! You can’t just expect me to do what that man says!” Emily’s eyes were wide and her nails seemed to have grown longer as her temper flared. If she were an animal she might be a spider monkey ready to jump on his head. He fixed a lazy glare at her.

“That man.” He looked down his nose at her. “Has made every decision that Miranda would have made. He has not blinked or balked at any of the designers, employees, or sheer magnitude of work that an impostor would have.”

Emily stamped her foot like she was a two with her hands balled up in fists at her sides.

Nigel went right over the top of her building tantrum with a quiet scolding. “No, no. I have no idea what alien worm-hole Mitchell Priestly arrived from. I have no idea of how or why Miranda would have kept him a secret. I had no idea that Uzbekistan even had a fashion magazine, let alone one run by a Priestly. However he looks like an orange, smells like an orange, and he just might be an orange.”

Gasping and choking for air and words Emily sputtered out. “Nigel. Oh. Really. My god, Nigel.”

Bored Nigel turned back to the work on his desk.

“You called Mitchell an orange.”

Looking up at her he pointed out. “I’m ready to call you a spider monkey.” He struck her on the forehead with his grease pencil. “He stormed in like Miranda and took over like Miranda. Who the hell else would do that except for her genetic twin? He is running the place like she would and you know, god forbid that Miranda is fine and comes back to find that this issue has dipped in quality in any way.”

Emily placed her hands on the edge of the desk controlling her temper as much as she could for the moment.

“Do you want her to come back and all the work we did in Brazil has gone into a less than stellar issue? If Miranda comes back to find Brazil was not worth it… Well.” Nigel thinks about it for a second pencil tapping his closed lips. “Drawing and quartering would be gentle in my mind.”

Pushing hard at the crease between her eyebrows Emily moaned. “I’ll be sent to the Tower…” On the way out Emily let out a giant sigh of air like she was certain of a dark and dismal fate.

*** *** ***

The run-through did not immediately have the same buzz as when Miranda was present. Not everyone had bought into the idea that Mitchell was the new force in the office. Marina came in late from accessories and only had five belts with her. Mitchell blinked his eyes at her as he mentally gathered himself into a hunting crouch. After she had blathered on for about 90 seconds Mitchell cleared his throat, held out his hand for the belts and then fixed her with a decidedly predatory look. Marina sputtered as her words foundered and then she ground to a breathless halt as she felt the same blue-eyed glare pinning her. “There is no excuse for tardiness.” Mitchell said as he stepped nearer to Marina. Holding up his hand to look at the belts he continued. “There is no excuse for ineptitude.”

The room was silent. Three. Comments happened in threes. Everyone in the room waited on baited breath for the third statement. Nigel, Serena, Jocelyn, Emily, and Marina held their collective breath in anticipation for the next words.

Mitchell knew this because behind those blue eyes Miranda was calling the shots.

The seconds ticked on as their heartbeats thudded in their chests—the suspense was unbearable. The elevator dinged and Andrea’s voice carried into the tense office as she greeted the assistant from Calvin Klein. The silence was increasingly uncomfortable as Mitchell contemplated the moment.

Unpredictable. Miranda was unpredictable and yet they all waited for the automatic dismissal. The one that had already formed in Miranda’s brain and on Mitchell’s tongue. The Mitchell presence knew that the bigger picture was about change. He hesitated.

The final statement never was uttered. Mitchell let the words form in everyone’s mind, but left them there like a wisdom tooth trapped painfully under the gum. Miranda would have kept at the girl until she cried or she would have fired her before she uttered a word.

Mitchell was here and now and he had the benefit of the conversation with the Being. He also had the chance to come back into this Runway world with a new perspective and potential chance. Miranda was still on the inside, but the Mitchell persona had become the lens through which ‘she’ viewed the world. Miranda on the inside missed the twins, but knew that contacting them would cause more problems than it was worth in ‘her’ current incarnation. It was one thing to waltz into Runway and dazzle them. It would be another thing all together to hoodwink her family in such a way.

*** *** ***

The run through was drawing to a close at last and everyone was waiting for the dismissal. “That’s all.” Formed on Mitchell’s tongue, but at the last second he changed his mind. He had just ‘not-fired’ Marina to be unpredictable, and less like pre-Brazil Miranda—it would not do then to use her signature phrase in closing. He pursed his lips and there was a collective shudder in the room. He fixed his eyes on each of them in turn letting the seconds stretch out. “Go.” He said shaking the belts still in his hand like a voo doo talisman of their fates should they fail to fix the mistakes found here.

Marina led the stampede out of the office, but Serena could not resist a look back at this intriguing person in Miranda’s office. So similar yet so different to Miranda and no less enigmatical as each day passed—she couldn’t help the natural curiosity that had always drawn her to Miranda now spiking ten-fold in the direction of her would be brother. Miranda was a mystery that was in their face on a daily basis until now and while she was a source of fascination, Mitchell was new and just as suddenly as he appeared he might disappear. He was the ultimate ‘limited-time-offer,’ which made him all the more alluring. She did not lust after Miranda or Mitchell, but she was incredibly intrigued by their power, lack of background, and amazing abilities. Her eyes locked on Mitchell’s for a second and she rushed to follow Nigel out of the office.

“Serena.” She stopped, swallowed, and turned as she heard Mitchell’s quiet voice call out to her.

“Yes.” Serena choked out from the doorway. “Yes. Mitchell.”

“Close the door, Serena. I have a couple of questions for you.” Mitchell moved behind the editor’s desk but did not sit down as he waited for Serena to close the door and face him. “Sit.” He gestured to her. “You’ve been at Runway for quite a while.” Serena nodded and then sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. Mitchell sat in the editor’s chair. “I’m curious as to how Miranda ran this magazine.” He paused looking Serena over. “What did you think of her as a boss?”

Serena narrowed her eyes at him unsure what kind of answer he was expecting or that she wanted to give. “She demanded perfection.” It was a statement of fact. Rather vacuous and quite vague, but it was the truth.

Mitchell let out a small laugh. “This conversation is confidential, Serena. Anything you say here is strictly between you and I.”

Serena nodded grimly. She knew that she would have to answer, but she was still unsure of what to say. A chance to tell Mitchell all of the things that Miranda did or did not do with no retribution seemed too good to be true. “Runway is the best fashion magazine because Miranda demands perfection. I think that she could soften the blows and still achieve the same results.”

Mitchell tapped his nose with one long finger as he contemplated what Serena had said. “How so?”

“When Miranda slices and dices someone, there is usually good reason. Like in the run through today. Miranda would have perhaps said things differently to Marina because she was not living up to the standard of perfection today. She may have even fired her.”

“I considered that myself.”

“I know. What’s more is that we all know. Marina knows. Today is a good example of when Miranda is in the right to cut into her employee. Marina made obvious mistakes that needed to be addressed.”

“And do you think I addressed them today?”

Serena nodded. “In a way what you did was scarier than Miranda just firing her. She knows that she did not meet the standard and that she was spared. She is living on borrowed time and needs to prove that she belongs here even more than before.”

“And that is better than how Miranda would have handled it?”

“Yes. I mean if Marina was just fired then she would have been able to just be upset that the Dragonlady had fired her for being late once. This way she knows she was given a gift, one that she could have lost today and most certainly will lose if she does something so careless again. She has learned and we will not have to train another new person for her job.”

“I see.” Mitchell nodded and crossed his leg over his knee. “But you said Miranda should soften the blows. Did you mean like today with Marina?”

“No.” Serena struggled to select just one example to talk to Mitchell about as an example. “Okay. The design meeting. When Samuel comes in with an idea that he hasn’t thought out…” Mitchell nodded and Serena continued. “Well, half the time if Miranda let him talk or asked him a couple of questions he would see his own idiocy for himself and learn from it. Instead Samuel holds up one image or says one catch phrase and Miranda has dismissed him before he could even get the thought out.”

“But if it’s so patently poor, why should she let him ramble on?”

“That’s the thing. He’ll just keep coming up with the same kind of ideas thinking that Miranda is just a bitch, instead of learning from it and becoming better at what he does.” Serena caught the startled look in Mitchell’s eye. “Oh, sorry. I just meant that that’s what Samuel could think. I mean…”

Raising his hand out to her Mitchell stopped her verbal fumbling. “I’m well aware of the names Miranda is called. I just haven’t heard them directly.” He half smiled to put Serena at ease again. When she let out a puff of air and sank into the seat again he continued. “My other question… Do any of the employees like Miranda? Genuinely like her?”

Serena shook her head. From bad to worse, she could not believe she was answering this question and seriously hoped that there was no question number three at this point. “Emily.” Serena sighed out as she thought of her girlfriend. “Emily genuinely likes Miranda, I think.” Mitchell leaned back into his own chair as if he did not actually care much about this information, when inwardly he was trying not to stand up and flail. “Emily worships Miranda. She doesn’t even eat half the time, but she has begun to resent the fact that Miranda will never even say thank you to her.”

At first Mitchell was hopeful, but the end of Serena’s answer dashed it. “How do you know this?” He asked quietly.

Serena sat up with a rigid spine and her lips pursed shut. She clearly did not want to answer this.

Mitchell leaned forward and looked at her softly with his blue eyes. He waited but did not continue forward or do anything except try to focus on making Serena feel safe with what was in his eyes. It took a few moments, but Mitchell knew he was successful when Serena sighed and rubbed her hand on her knee in a soothing gesture.

“She’s my lover and I want to protect her.”

*** *** ***

Frantic run throughs, designers in tears, and an endless list of errands left the whole office feeling like the walking wounded. The pressure would not let up until the deadline for the issue was upon them. Even then it would only let up long enough for the next set of tasks begin. Two days after Mitchell’s conversation with Serena it was time to call in Emily. It had been a surprise when Serena had revealed their relationship and he had watched Emily closely in the intervening time. It was neither here nor there that they were in a relationship, what mattered to Mitchell and more so to Miranda was whether or not Emily respected Miranda in accordance with the Being’s conditions. Goals in mind he called out to her, “Emmmilllleeee.”

She arrived quickly, but he thought he remembered a little more spring in her step when answering Miranda. She stepped into the office with her notepad at the ready. When nothing came but silence she looked up to see Mitchell intently looking her over. She lowered her notepad and pen to her sides like a gunslinger checking for the six shooters that should be on their hips. Mitchell stepped to the window and half faced it and half faced Emily. “You don’t seem to like me very much, Emily, why is that?”

Shock flickered across her face but she schooled her features quickly back to neutral. Mitchell was impressed with this. He smiled at her and angled his head waiting for her answer. “You’re not Miranda. I don’t know who you are exactly, but you’re not Miranda.”

Mitchell nodded. “And you miss Miranda?”

Emily’s jaw opened and closed. “No. Errr. Yes. It’s not that simple.” She rested her pen hand on her hip.

“Why not?”

Emily drew herself up to her full height as if she was explaining something very simple to someone who should already know it. “Miranda makes you miserable and lets you see greatness in equal measures.”

Mitchell motioned to a chair in front of the desk and moved to his own chair. “How so?”

Emily rolled her eyes as she continued to explain. “She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask. She doesn’t explain why she chops you at your knees so you can learn from it.” Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes a moment Emily continued. “You want to know and you want the explanation.” Emily looked at Mitchell, “You explain things, you know. It’s… Well, it’s different.”

Wanting the ultimate comparison Mitchell asked, “Would you rather I stay and Miranda stay gone?”

Emily let out a woeful sigh. “I want Miranda to be okay.” Emily fixed Mitchell with a glare. “I want you to be the real thing so that there is no mess when she comes back.” Emily stopped there pondering what else she should say. Mitchell waited to see if she would continue. “If I could believe you were really the new person for Runway and Miranda was gone without some kind of foul play, then maybe I could learn to work for you.” Emily nodded to signal that her answer was final. Mitchell nodded to show his appreciation.

After a few moments of silence Mitchell continued his list of questions. “What is wrong with Andy?”

Emily rolled her eyes thinking, ‘What’s RIGHT with her?’ She slapped her hand on her thigh. “That’s a loaded question, Mitchell.”

Laying out his observations in a slow even tone he explained why he wanted to know what was wrong with her. “She’s near tears all the time now. I thought it was over her boyfriend Nate and then I thought it was over that slime ball Christian Thompson that has been calling. But since the Brazil trip Andrea hasn’t been the same.”

With each fact Emily lost a little more of her aloof façade as it was replaced with shock, confusion, and finally suspicion. Mitchell had very little interaction with Andrea so she found it odd that he would worry about her in the first place. As he continued with facts that Miranda probably didn’t even know she became very uncomfortable. Emily narrowed her eyes and waited for Mitchell to stop talking. As a silence fell between them Mitchell replayed his comments in his mind. Emily crossed her arms over her chest and just watched him. He had not said anything terribly out of line, just incredibly surprising as to how he would even know.

Inwardly Mitchell reviewed his comments only realizing at the end that he would not have known that information about her. The Miranda inside tapped her toe impatiently giving an internal death glare. ‘Her’ employees had no idea what information she knew about them because she never interacted with them on a personal level. Too late Mitchell realized that he had given away too much information and had made a mistake of timing as to how ‘he’ could possibly know the facts.

Meeting Emily’s hardened eyes he dismissed her with a flourish of his hand. She was not going to challenge him regardless of what she thought of him and he thought it best to send her away instead of draw a bigger spotlight on the issue. Emily all but ran down to Nigel.

*** *** ***

“Andy.” He was gratified when he heard her sound of surprise and small yelp as she hit her knee rounding the desk. He waited for her to enter the doorway of the office and take her customary five steps and then stop. All the while he watched her with a fixed eye. Quietly he asked her, “Are you having trouble at home?” He recoiled as soon as the words left his mouth because her face dropped and he wanted to rush across the office and soothe her, but knew that he could not.

Andrea took a small step back and searched for her words. “No, no. I. No. I’m sorry.” She was immediately on the defensive and Mitchell wondered how he could diffuse the situation. Andrea’s features scrunched up as she contemplated her work lately. “I have not missed any phone calls, nor have I failed in any errands you’ve sent me on. I will not let my personal issues affect my work, Mitchell.”

Mitchell nodded reassuringly. “I know. I’” Then he let his eyes linger over her face as he spoke quietly, “I just wondered. You’ve seemed distant, Andy.” Unconsciously leaning forward to hear him Andrea stepped closer.

Andy flinched and covered her mouth with her hand a moment before she collected herself.

“You have been upset, haven’t you, Andy?”

His blue eyes were so gentle probing into her own that Andy let go. Silent tears fell down her cheeks forming pathways of sadness. “I like you Mitchell, I do. But Miranda…” She whelped a little and wiped at her eyes with shaking fingertips. “Miranda should be here. Instead she’s gone and business is just carrying on like nothing is different.”

Unable to stop himself Mitchell stepped around the desk closer to Andrea, but not fully approaching her. Very softly he said, “But business does have to carry on.”

Sniffling as she stood in the center of the office she muttered. “I know. It’s just that you are this calm, cool man and Irv fawns all over you, Nigel follows you without question and even Emily jumps for you. You do a lot of the things that Miranda does. However where she gets called names behind her back, you get a pat on the back.”

Mitchell’s eyebrows raised and he asked the obvious. “Do you think Miranda deserved pats on the back?”

Blinking back the tears and her shock Andrea sputtered. “I think that she. Yes. Yes I do.” Andrea put her hands on her hips showing that she was certain now. “Maybe not all the time, but she made this publication what it is. She carries a lot of weight for Elias Clark and has done so for a very long time. She has flaws, but she is unparalleled in what she accomplishes.” Andrea paused as Mitchell stepped closer to her. She looked down suddenly flustered. “You have been doing this for a short period of time and no one seems to see that you do so many of the things she is despised for, but you get praised. Irv. Irv is the worst.”

Smiling in agreement that Irv was indeed the worst Mitchell tracked her face with his eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Instead he swallowed and continued the conversation. “So you liked and respected Miranda despite those flaws? And you dislike me because I have turned them into positives that help Runway?” Despite his growing fondness for Andrea, Mitchell couldn’t help toying with her just a little bit. It was really too easy.

“Yes.” Andrea said breathlessly as she made eye contact with Mitchell again. “C-c-can I go now?”

Standing to his full height but keeping his eyes locked on hers. “Yes. Andrea. You may go.” Halfway to the door Andrea stopped and turned to look full brown eyes at Mitchell. For a long moment Mitchell felt naked. More than naked—he felt like Andrea’s eyes saw through him and inside. In the blink of an eye Andrea wiped a tear and the moment was broken. She turned to leave.

Mitchell shivered all the way inside to his core. It was as if Andrea had looked inside him to see Miranda. Shaken to the core an image of the twins flashed behind blue eyes. Andrea was not family and if she could somehow see through the Mitchell façade to the Miranda inner core, then her family would surely be able to. The separation between Miranda and her family suddenly felt even more insurmountable than before. Saddened all over again it was Miranda who let out a sad sigh.

Going back to sit in the chair Mitchell swiveled around to look out the window.

He replayed the scene in his mind.

Andrea. He had called her Andrea at the end instead of Andy and she had turned on him and pinned him inside out with her big brown eyes. It was unnerving. A strange flutter built in his stomach. Miranda called her Andrea. Mitchell called her Andy. “I need to be more careful with these small distinctions.” He told his mirrored reflection.

“But I found my Runway underling who likes Miranda despite... the flaws.” He clicked his pen shut and held it tight. Inside the head Miranda perked up once again. Mitchell was determined and had found a measure of success on this impossible path laid down by the Being. Perhaps it was not so bleak after all. “Andrea.” Mitchell said once more. The syllables danced on his tongue. The devilish look on his face was reminiscent of Miranda’s victorious smirk.

*** *** ***

1\. Underling that liked/respected Miranda despite flaws—CHECK  
2\. True love—

“What does that even mean?” Mitchell shook his head Lucas, Gregory, and Stephen did not love Miranda. It was fine because by the end of each relationship and messy divorce she had not loved any of them either. The question of who used who was sometimes not answered so easily, however there was plenty of guilt to spread around by the time all was said and done. So in this case Mitchell did not trouble himself over the answers.

The fact was in the search for ‘true love’ they were obviously dead ends. “If I don’t accomplish this… I’m a dead end.” Mitchell took the reading glasses off of his nose and held the arm of one to his mouth as he used to in his former incarnation.

“It seems easiest to find a man that is already in love with Miranda and just seek him out. Maybe add some Mitchell style charm to be certain?” Mitchell wasn’t sure about how to do that. On the inside Mitchell still thought he was Miranda, but he was very aware that on the outside he was Mitchell. As Miranda there had always been a sex drive and an air of seduction in the day to day, but with this ‘change’ of testosterone and male-ness there was a hunger that was more direct and raw. This change unnerved Miranda because she wasn’t sure that it would always be able to be held in check. It was a new battle of balance and control for her within this male body. “That was another thing that the Being didn’t say anything about.” Mitchell rolled his eyes and slipped the reading glasses back on his nose. As Miranda seduction was part and parcel of who she was, however as Mitchell seduction was a skill set that needed to be re-learned. The worry was that the hunger would win out over the finesse. There was no time for to be re-learning skills or for mistakes to be made unfortunately. “Hmmm. Maybe it would be easier to seduce a man? Even in a male body…” Mitchell contemplated this. “Miranda had practice with men. How different does it need to be?” Nodding to himself he decided that he would start when the opportunity presented itself.

*** *** ***

Like a fly buzzing innocently Nigel happened up from the second floor long after Mitchell had sent Emily and Andrea home. The elevator dinged open and Mitchell looked at Nigel with fresh eyes as he walked toward him with files in his hand.

“A man that already loves Miranda.” Mitchell placed an elbow on the desk and rested a finger against his lips. Nigel steadily moved closer. “No time to re-learn.” He took in a deep breath. Nigel was almost in the double doorway. “Use what I know.” Mitchell stood as Nigel hit the doorway and looked up at last.

Their eyes locked and some odd electricity filled the air. Mitchell wondered if Miranda had sold herself short not looking at Nigel before. Mitchell held his breath taking in Nigel’s questioning gaze. He hovered on the brink of what to do and whether or not to push forward.

Stepping around the desk and leaning against it Mitchell drew closer to Nigel who had stepped into the office a few paces and stopped. “What is it?” Mitchell tilted his head and looked at Nigel intensely.

“Those are Miranda’s glasses.”

Mitchell reached up to touch the glasses with one hand and then ran his fingers through his silver hair. Nigel appeared to be mesmerized. Stepping closer Nigel held out the files for Mitchell. Their hands brushed as they exchanged the files and their eyes locked again. Mitchell placed the files behind him on the desk. He stepped forward almost into Nigel’s personal space. “Do you like them?”

Nigel started to speak and swallowed when he found his throat dry. Mitchell inched closer. “Yes. I do.”

Smiling like the silver fox that he was Mitchell lowered his voice to a whisper. “Do you like Miranda?”

“Yes.” Nigel was surprised at the answer and his eyes widened.

Mitchell half smirked. “Do you like me?”

“M-Mitchell—MMMMM.”

Nigel started to say something but after ‘Mitchell’ he found that he could not speak for Mitchell’s tongue was licking into his mouth as warm lips pressed against his own. In the second it took to realize what was happening Nigel brought his hands up to Mitchell’s shoulders and pushed away firmly.

Mitchell’s eyes were as wide and as surprised as Nigel’s were, but for different reasons.

“It is her, isn’t it? You love her.” Mitchell said as he stepped back and wiped his mouth.

“I. No. I. What?” Nigel turned the most confused expression on Mitchell and waited. He had been about to share his personal life, but realized this wasn’t about him. Mitchell had been babbling on and thought that he was in love with Miranda. “You think I’m in love with Miranda?” Nigel was too tired to raise his voice or even make a desperate hand gesture.

Mitchell shrugged and turned toward the window. “I’ll never find it.” He murmured quietly.

Shaking his head as to why he was still in the room Nigel hazarded a question. “Find what?”

After a deep sigh Mitchell answered. “True love.”

The pause hung between them. A kiss gone wrong was like a drive-by and the scene should have been cleared now, yet they stood in the awkwardness and began to talk.

“No one loved Miranda, did they?”

Nigel sat in one of the chairs not even waiting for an invitation. He was exhausted from the moment, from Miranda’s disappearance, and from the days dragging out since then. “Is this about Miranda or you?”

Mitchell turned to him then. A flicker of indecision flashed in his eye and was gone. “Me.” He stated simply. It was the truth no more and no less.

This was surreal and even in the last couple of weeks’ surreal activity—this topped it. “No offense, Mitchell. You don’t even seem that into me.”

Nigel looked up to Mitchell wondering if he had gone too far.

Seeing no negativity in Mitchell’s stance Nigel took courage and continued. “Did Miranda tell you that you were gay when you were little or something to make you more fashionable perhaps? Maybe that’s the reason you can’t find love, you’re looking in the wrong places…”

“Perhaps.” Mitchell let the words fall in the room. “Go home, Nigel.” Smoothing his clothes out of habit Nigel stood and turned toward the door. “I’m sorry.” Mitchell said quietly after him. Nigel turned to face him, made eye contact and nodded once. It was done. It wouldn’t be spoken of again.

*** *** ***

“Women. A woman.” Closing his eyes Mitchell steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as he rested on his elbows. He looked at the darkened offices of Runway. In daylight these were offices filled to the brim with women: clackers, models, and the occasional woman with real curves who was inevitably on the wrong floor. “I’m a man, of course I should look for a woman.” He shook his head. He was still thinking of Miranda and who Miranda had dated in the past. “The Being did not say anything about who—man or woman. Only that they must truly love Miranda.” Looking up at the ceiling and to the sky beyond it more out of habit than belief he wished for a copy of the fine print.

Mitchell pushed away from the desk and gathered his things. At first it had been weird to not have a bag or need to ask Emily for it, but he had savored how quickly he was ready to go not carrying one. It really threw off the assistants and as much as much fun as flustering Emily was whilst in the guise of Miranda, it seemed to be twice as easy as Mitchell. In this short time he had become accustomed to not carrying as many things around and to simply having things available wherever he went. A cell phone in the pocket, a neat wallet to hold the plastic, and a house key were the only items that really needed to be on his person at any given time. Everything else was only a short car ride away at the office or townhouse. It was odd to adjust routine, but the freedom and flexibility outweighed the initial feeling of nakedness. He wondered about how to make this more of a routine for women—streamlining their items carried. He wondered if he would get the opportunity to do so again as Miranda. It occurred to him that he should work on this idea for Runway in the next issue regardless of his fate here on Earth. “Nigel, women carry far too many things around. We need to work on a feature that helps women to carry less with them, sort out essentials and then things that should just be on hand the places that they frequent.” Mitchell hung up the phone. Nigel would get the message in the morning when he returned to Runway. With that he swept out of the office into the darkened hallway and pushed the button for the elevator.

“A woman.” He sighed as the floors dinged by him in the elevator. “Emily is with Serena. Jocelyn is married.” Mitchell couldn’t believe how much information he had gained about his employees with a few simple conversations. He also couldn’t help but smirk at the irony of Nigel telling him to pursue women. Inside Miranda nearly snorted as the phrase, ‘wing man’ flittered into mind. Mitchell knew all too well considering his situation on Earth as Mitchell and the predicament that Miranda was in that things were not right in the universe, but the reality of Miranda’s right hand man sending ‘her’ after ‘women’ was humorous.

Refusing to think about it anymore that night Mitchell slipped into the waiting car and made his way into the empty townhouse. He missed the girls more than he could find words for and the weight of that crashed in on him as he started up the stairs. He was glad to look at their pictures and not ponder anything else until the book arrived and he could savor ripping it to shreds.

*** *** ***

In the morning between appointments Mitchell was back to contemplating the woman issue. Emily had compiled a folio of head shots of the top models both big names and featured in Runway. He had been going through it time and time again looking at the beautiful faces one by one. “Linda Evangelista…” He looked at the picture and remembered working with her. Then he flipped to the next and the next. “Christy Turlington… Naomi Campbell… Cindy Crawford…” He shook his head at each one of them. There was no spark from him, nor did he remember any particularly fond feelings on behalf of Miranda. He considered that he was beginning to think of Miranda as a separate person, but then he shrugged this off. In a way Miranda was a separate person and besides he needed to make the distinction between his current existence and whoever/whatever he was before Brazil. He continued to look at the models as he flipped through the folio once again. The most featured model in Runway, the most covers, the most recent, the paratrooper that finally had made the cut, the sexiest voted on by readers… Each one got a glance and perhaps a small nod, but was passed on time and again. The back of the folio signaled the end of the model progression and Mitchell slammed it closed on the desk. “No, no, no, no…”

He groaned and swiveled his chair to look out the window on the grey New York morning. He wanted to pull his hair out, but knew that would not only be painful, but very out of character. He smiled evilly thinking, ‘Well, I know where the saying came from now.” He violently shook his hair and then smoothed it. “I always thought it was just an expression.’

He was alerted to the presence of someone behind him but did not turn as he heard the leather of boots rubbing together. “Miran—” He heard a big intake of air and a giant sigh. Andrea. His brain jolted a little but the message was not clear. He turned the chair around to face her. “Mitchell.” Andrea nodded to herself and then stepped forward. “I thought you’d want to see these.” She set a folder down on the desk and then stepped back smoothing her skirt as she stood ready and waiting.

Mitchell reached forward taking the folder in his hands and opening it, but his eyes never left the woman standing before him trying not to fidget. She had on the channel boots again and a flattering skirt and shirt ensemble that was stylish but not picked out by Nigel. He could see a certain confidence within her that he had not noticed before. He looked her up and down lingering over the curve of her hips and breasts. ‘Andrea is a real woman.’ He thought. ‘With beautiful eyes.’ Mitchell set the folder down swallowing hard because he knew his throat was dry and his body was having some kind of reaction in that moment that he was certain he had never quite felt before. A reaction that was disturbing in how powerful it was and how wonderful it was, but not a bad reaction either. No, most certainly not a bad reaction.

Mitchell was presented with a series of images and memories. Each reminded him of that sloppy woman that had come into the office demanding to be noticed. She had been worn down to a cowering struggling assistant within days and Miranda had enjoyed having that affect on her.

Andrea had wanted to be noticed and Miranda had delighted in lecturing her, challenging her, and reducing her to tears. Thinking of it now from within the lens of Mitchell’s search for love, it was obvious that Andrea had expected recognition and that even from Day One, Miranda had given it to her. Perhaps it was not the kind of attention that either of them wanted? Perhaps, just perhaps, it had been masking a different kind of attention that they each unconsciously wanted? Was Andrea not asking to be noticed, but to be seen as a woman? Had Miranda wanted to tell her how special she was, but instead had been torturing her because she didn’t know how else to be closer to her?

Snapped to attention again by Andrea’s throat clearing, Mitchell focused his eyes on the woman.

Andrea stepped forward. “Errr. Mitchell? Are you okay? I mean. You just… You…” Andrea stammered. She knew you weren’t supposed to ask Miranda questions, but this was Mitchell and the rules were slightly different. Besides even if it was Miranda, if she looked like this, then she would have asked if she was okay. Andrea stepped as close to the desk as she could and then stopped simply looking at Mitchell with sweet brown eyes full of concern. “Did you get news about Miranda or something?” Andrea wasn’t sure what was the matter with Mitchell. She couldn’t tell if he was upset or distracted, but she knew that it wasn’t his usual calm, collected self. “You just seem… I don’t know.” Andrea waved her hand up in confusion. “… upset.”

Mitchell coughed and scooted the chair closer to the desk. “No.” He looked up at her again blinking a few times trying to comprehend his reaction. “Yes.” Andrea was as startled by his second answer as he was and they both locked eyes on one another in question this time. He said the first thing that came into his mind since he had no idea what to say about his current thoughts and feelings. “They have figured out that there were former Runway employees at the resort in Brazil.” He looked down at the folio of pictures that Andrea had brought into him. He did not want to look at her anymore.

“Oh. Okay. I’m really sorry, Mitchell.” Andrea said quietly. Inwardly Mitchell cursed his choice of fact. He did not tell her new information, if this had been new information he would have expected her to be surprised and distracted from him by the news. Instead he had repeated old information and given her more reason to focus on him. He would have been better off sending her to the art department or Calvin Klein. Hell he could have sent her to Starbucks!

Mitchell stayed focused on the pictures as he listened to her retreating footsteps and heard the rubbing together of her leather boots. When he heard her answer the phone after many long moments he let out the breath he had been holding and looked up and around him.

The main office was empty and he had never been more thankful.

ANDREA. That answered, well, Mitchell was not sure what that answered, but he was sure that it was an answer. Her presence shot through him like a lightning bolt straight to his pants. He had not had sex in the time that he had been here and he distantly thought that Miranda had not had sex in a very long time. He briefly wondered if this was what it was like to be a 15 year old boy and mused that he now understood why they were such idiots then. He was glad that the twins were girls. Hormones were bad, but hard ons… well… They were a different story all together.

The Being did not give a time table or any other details. In fact, Mitchell mused, ‘The Being gave as few details when assigning a task as Miranda did.’ He snickered to himself thinking that just as Miranda did the Being must just expect perfection and nothing less than absolute success. Even so Mitchell felt that time had to be running out. He was not sure how to solve this puzzle, but he knew that Andrea had to be a part of the solution. At least he hoped that she was, because he was certain that she was part of the problem.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Het sex here. Except that he's Miranda... So.... You decide. It will be obvious where to stop reading, if you want to skip it. LOL.

_**The Quest—Part 3/4** _

Like summer slowly blending into fall Runway had gently shifted to accept the loss of Miranda and the addition of Mitchell. Even Miranda inside of Mitchell had come to a grudging acceptance of the state of things. The bustle of Runway was enough to allow a person to get lost in it and at night when the day was over it was easy to lapse into a fitful sleep from exhaustion. Mitchell had been keeping Andrea close to him on drives, going to designers, and even going so far as to take her to small events that Miranda would not have usually taken an assistant to.

Emily just rolled her eyes when Mitchell would stop at her desk to give her an order and then turned to beckon Andrea with a slight head tilt. She was silently glad that Mitchell wasn’t showering her with any extra attention, although she did wonder why Mitchell had seemed to take an interest in Andrea. To Emily’s eye Miranda had only ever drawn Andrea close in order to torture her like a high fashion cat playing with a dowdy mouse. That image always made Emily smile, but ‘this’ with Mitchell seemed to be something gentle. In fact if Emily had to put a label to it she would have probably said that he was fond of Andrea, but Emily did not have to put a fine point on it and she let it go.

A week had gone by since Mitchell’s realization that as both Miranda and Mitchell there was an undeniable pull toward Andrea. He had brought her more and more into his schedule as he thought about what to do and the implications it could have. Andrea was sitting next to Mitchell in the car on the way to a reception at James Holt. She was on the phone going over details of the photo shoot with Nigel before leaving for Barcelona. Nigel was to leave the next day and was apprehensive. It was the first time that he had left the comfort of the office since Brazil and he felt oddly uncertain about it, even though he had been one of the first to accept Mitchell. It just seemed one thing to be at Runway to keep a close eye and accept Mitchell under those conditions, but it was another to leave Runway in his hands completely.

Mitchell watched Andrea as much as he could without getting caught staring. He savored the comforting tones of her voice and the flash of the streetlights over her features as they drove across town. As Andrea had said Miranda just wasn’t the nurturing type, but as Mitchell he had the leeway to watch as an outsider. In reflection he discovered that he liked the close relationships that seemed to have evolved between his staff members in the ‘absence of Miranda.’ He was glad that they had come together to form such a bond and hoped that coming back as Miranda would further that overall closeness of the Runway team. After observing the staff and getting to know them through conversations and working with them under a different guise Mitchell had realized that using the staff as a team would really work given the nature of their joint enterprise. He only hoped that he would be able to return as Miranda to truly make Runway shine now that he saw even more room for growth. Perhaps Miranda after her ‘ordeal’ would be able to approach the job differently.

Andrea hung up the phone and rubbed her forehead in a moment of stress.

Before he could think better of it Mitchell had reached out to slowly grab her hand and rest it on the seat between them, “Andrea.” Her sharp intake of air and tenseness immediately told him that he had made a mistake, but he wasn’t sure what to do. “I know Nigel is nervous about leaving the office, but it will be all right. If anything happens at Runway you or Emily are expected to call him. It will be fine, Andrea.”

The silence hung in the air as he felt her eyes searching him. Andrea did not remove her hand nor did she relax as the city lights continued to ebb and flow over them as they crossed street after street. As the silence stretched on Mitchell began to regret his words.

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“You call me Andrea when we are alone. Do you do it on purpose?”

“Does it bother you?”

Pulling her hand away from his she rubbed under her eye, “It’s just that Miranda—” She shrugged and looked away. “She used to call me Andrea.”

Deciding that this was a moment that he had to be bold Mitchell gently took her hand in both of his again. “I can stop if you like. I didn’t realize that it would bother you. It’s just so beautiful to say your name, Andrea.”

His tone was so earnest and something in her wanted him to call her Andrea. Something in her wanted to accept his comfort. She unconsciously leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t have to stop.”

There was a pause that seemed to stretch out between them and wrap around them like a blanket, but then time bent again and his eyes searched hers as he leaned forward to her.

Their eyes both fluttered shut as their lips pressed against each other.

Mitchell rubbed his thumb along the back of Andrea’s hand.

The car came to a stop and they sprung apart. Roy opened the door and Mitchell stepped out into the crowd. Andrea hustled out of the car on the far side and rushed to follow Mitchell. They made their way in silence through the crowd and into the event. Andrea hung at Mitchell’s side occasionally offering a name or piece of information. At the end of the dinner Roy picked them up and once again they were alone in the black leather bubble of the back seat.

“Andrea—”

The complex patchwork of emotions that played across Andrea’s face mirrored those inside Mitchell’s mind as she reached for her ringing cell phone. Effectively ending the conversation that had yet to start she greeted her caller. “Yes, Nigel.” She paused for a moment. “No problem.” She hung up the phone and without a pause lowered the privacy screen to tell Roy to take her to Runway instead of her apartment.

Not raising the screen again she turned to Mitchell, “Nigel needs the photography permits that are on his desk. I need to call Desiree…” Andrea trailed off as she looked up the number on her phone and hit dial.

The rest of the car ride passed with Andrea on the phone and then in silence. Neither knew exactly what to say and with the privacy screen down there was little that could be said to address what happened between them earlier. As Andrea waved Roy off Mitchell knew it would be a long weekend.

*** *** ***

The weekend was indeed long however the first three days of the week where he wanted to reach out to Andrea but could not were excruciating. Scheduling had been so tight that often both Emily and Andrea were needed to run errands and a temporary girl would be sent up from elsewhere in Elias Clark to simply take messages and forward calls as necessary. Mitchell might have worried about it, but with Nigel gone he was too busy to worry about it. As such it was not until Wednesday that Mitchell was finally home when Andrea delivered the book. He called to her from the back study and waited on unsteady heartbeats while she approached. Holding the book close to her chest Andrea stepped into the room. “Yes, Mitchell.” She greeted him.

“Please. Have a seat.” He motioned for her to sit on the couch, but did not reach to take the book from her. He turned and looked at her with blue eyes that he knew could draw someone in or freeze them over. “I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable, And—” He was unsure whether to call her Andrea or Andy but was saved when she interrupted him.

“I’m just so confused, Mitchell.”

Swallowing hope and pushing forward, Mitchell scooted closer on the couch to Andrea. “You can tell me if you want to. I can be a good listener.”

Andrea half laughed at that as she looked him in the eye once more.

“What do you want to listen to me for?” She asked. Mitchell looked at her and waited for an elaboration. “It’s just that, Miranda, wouldn’t have listened.”

“Are you so sure?” Mitchell asked her. “Here. Put the book down.” He pointed to the coffee table in front of them.

“Miranda… I don’t think she listened to anyone except for the girls.”

“Did you want Miranda to listen to you?”

In the silence that greeted him Mitchell was overwhelmed by the flutters in his stomach. He marveled in between heartbeats that Miranda’s confidence would have floundered here. While in the guise of Mitchell everything seemed to oddly fall into place. There were stutter steps to be sure and missteps a plenty, but somehow this more relaxed demeanor allowed for missteps that would have been fatal with Miranda to instead morph into opportunity. Andrea was Miranda’s heart’s desire, but as Miranda she had been unaware. Thinking of it now it was likely that as Miranda there would be have been no pursuit anyway. Perhaps as Mitchell the pursuit of Andrea was possible? Mitchell inwardly remembered what had been said to Andrea, ‘Hope. I live on it.’ Given the current scenario the words were uncannily true.

“I… Yes. I would have liked her to listen to me. I mean, I guess she never really had a reason to.”

Mitchell closed his eyes for a moment. He only had a reason to listen because he had kissed her and as Miranda that would have never happened. Well, not until now, but now was different. Inwardly Mitchell sighed, ‘What a mess.’

“Andrea. I don’t simply want to talk to you because I kissed you last week. For me…” Mitchell paused looking into her eyes and assessing the brown eyed beauty before him. He slowly reached for her hand, but did not pull it away from her lap. “I have been drawn to you since the day that we met. In some ways I think even before we met. I didn’t see it for what it was at first, but I see it now.” He paused as he selected his next words carefully. “I am sure that Miranda would want to know you, Andrea.”

Looking into her lap Andrea closed her other hand around Mitchell’s so that she was holding his hand as it held hers. She took comfort from the calm strength and closeness that she felt to him. Not looking up but instead running her finger up and down along the back of his hand Andrea began to speak quietly. “At first I didn’t like her at all, you know. I just wanted to do my job and get out of there.” She paused as she touched his pinky and then changed her motions to circles on the outside of his skin. “Then I really saw her. You know glimpses of the woman behind the icon. I understood her I think. I think I fell in love with her, you know.” She was speaking so quietly that Mitchell had scooted right next to her and leaned his head down to hear her better. A single tear landed on the back of his hand and he was surprised at how much his own heart hurt when he saw it. “But I really like you too.” She whispered.

Mitchell wasn’t sure that he had heard her or imagined the words. ‘Had she really just said that she liked me? What’s more did she just say that she loved Miranda?’ His mind reeled at this possibility. She looked up and suddenly they were face to face millimeters apart and Andrea leaned in the final bit and pressed her lips to his. It was a warm kiss that opened to tongues and wet mouths and exploration and hunger. With her free hand Andrea held her hand at the base of Mitchell’s neck and pulled him to her. Slightly shocked, Mitchell lost himself in the kiss before he cupped her cheek with his fingers gently caressing her skin as the kiss deepened and continued.

Pulling away after long moments that spun the world quicker on its axis they looked into each other’s eyes. Realizing what she had done Andrea pulled away, stood quickly and with a whimper quickly left the room.

Mitchell breathless and pleasantly overwhelmed followed her in amazement, but stopped short when the front door closed on him. The Being had told Miranda to find someone who liked her as a boss despite her flaws and to find true love. The Being had let it sound like a seek and find mission, but the reality was messy, overwhelming and full of anxiety, heart flutters, and hopeful doubt. The first few moments after the door closed were excruciating as everything replayed on a lightning fast loop that was edited and cut to show how beautiful and amazing Andrea was.

*** *** ***

Thursday was spent in avoidance. Body language was often a very clear indicator of attitude, emotion, and relationship to another. It could be minimized, but if one knew how to look then there were hints. After watching Miranda Priestly’s stealth body language for so long Emily could be called an expert at deciphering. Both Andrea and Mitchell were not even trying to limit their body language it would seem and so it was clear to her that: Andrea wanted nothing to do with Mitchell and for his part Mitchell was uncertain around her. So Emily spent the day relaying information and enjoying her role as mini-dictator on Mitchell’s behalf. Any thoughts she had to why it was odd that Mitchell stayed in his office all day were eclipsed by the power that she felt as she made sure the office was run and run ragged. This included Emily’s immense satisfaction at being able to send Andrea all over town.

Whatever respite Thursday may have brought them Friday was a fiery hell of unspoken thoughts, barely held back impulses, and exhausting travel in close quarters all over the city. It was as if the day had been especially designed to put them through hell while being transported around town in a luxury air-conditioned car.

As Roy approached the town house at ten o’clock that night it was clear they were both exhausted as they detailed their notes for the following week. Avoidance, mental stress, and flat out Runway work had been exhausting them. “Andrea, have dinner with me.”

The car rolled to a stop and Mitchell got out and turned to extend his hand to Andrea. She nodded and simply slid across the seat taking his hand. Standing on unsteady legs she told Roy to have a good night and then followed Mitchell up the front steps and into the town house.

Rummaging in the refrigerator Mitchell pulled out all manner of cheeses, meats, fruit pieces, and spreads. He wasn’t sure what Andrea would want but knew that neither of them had the energy for a full meal. It was best to snack and then he hoped to get her to stay even if it was in the guest room. He just didn’t want to see her go.

Andrea watched from her perch on a kitchen stool and was quietly amused at Mitchell’s rummaging. It seemed familiar like he had always been in this kitchen. She halfway could see Miranda quickly assembling a spread of light food to snack on. She felt connected to Miranda being in her house with Mitchell. It was a comforting feeling that threatened to overwhelm her. She was only sure that she did not want to leave even though staying would probably be a mistake.

“Thank you, Mitchell.” Andrea said as she took her plate to the sink and stood next to him.

He turned and looked at her and time again bent around them in such a way that they felt they could stand and look into each other forever. In this bubble Andrea felt as if Miranda was looking at her and she felt a warmth flood over her body. Dropping the small plate in the sink snapped both of them out of it and they smiled shyly at each other before they continued to put things away.

“Will you watch the news with me, Andrea?” Mitchell asked when they were done. “Or…” He trailed off not really wanting to offer but feeling like he should, “I could call you a cab.”

Yawning a little bit Andrea nodded, “The news would be a great way to unwind.”

*** *** ***

Thrashing her head back and forth Andrea couldn’t shake the feeling of someone crushing her. She began to paw at the darkness enveloping her body as she waged war with the unknown blackness that was threatening to overwhelm her and drag her down into the dark depths. Unlike Alice, Andrea felt that she could save herself the trip down the rabbit hole. Working at Runway had built up an incredible survival instinct and she would be damned if she’d let herself be jerked around by a new Cheshire cat. All of a sudden she heard her name and opened her eyes as she pushed against the chest in front of her until she finally focused on familiar blue eyes.

“Andrea!” The skin around the blue eyes was crinkled with concern and she stopped pushing in favor of pulling the warm body to her.

“You’re safe! They beat you and took you away.” Andrea wailed into the comforting shoulder holding her steady in the present.

“Andrea, it was a dream.” The warmth and safety of the body enveloped around her and she wept. “It was a dream, Andrea.”

Furious tears would not be held in check and Andrea pushed her savior away to look into the blue eyes once more. Crying all over again as she realized that it was Mitchell she let the sobs shake her body. Running his hands in a circular motion Mitchell hoped to smooth some comfort into her. For many moments her breathing was shallow and quick as she recalled images and dismissed them. Clutching tightly to him she pressed into his embrace accepting the comfort that he offered. At long last her grip lessened on him and he thought she had recovered enough to talk. He pulled back and sought her eyes with his. “What happened, Andrea?” Mitchell cooed close to her ear.

“Miranda.” Andrea said swallowing and clutching to hold his arms with renewed vigor. “She was in Brazil in a clearing. It was dark and these two… I don’t know. They had her on the ground and were beating her. Then they dragged her off and left her.” Andrea started crying. “They left her for dead, Mitchell. It was awful. Then they came back for me, Mitchell. I couldn’t save her.”

Holding her tighter to him Mitchell’s heartbeat began to race. He had lived that dream. It had been hard to reappear in that clearing disheveled and confused. They had meant to kill Miranda that night. It made his blood run cold to remember it again. The journey to the Being and their conversation was chilling, but not knowing where they had left her body had certainly lingered the longest in the mind. The Being had done nothing to be comforting either. It freaked Mitchell out to re-live this and it really freaked him out that Andrea would be able to so closely dream it. He wondered if it had something to do with her falling asleep against him or was it her striking compassion for Miranda?

“Shhhh. It was a dream, Andrea. It was a dream.” He began to rock with her in his arms the motion comforted him as much as it comforted her.

*** *** ***

The hour chime rang in the hallway and they both automatically looked at the clock. Surprised at the late hour Andrea felt that she should leave. It hit her all at once that this was Mitchell’s—well, Miranda’s—house and she was the assistant, therefore she should leave. She stood and Mitchell was glad that he could track her thoughts so well. His time as Mitchell had enabled him to access skills that Miranda had left to dust in a forgotten corner of the mind and he was thankful for the opportunity to truly get to know Andrea and the others. He stood and as she grabbed her shoes he was able to cut off her access to the hallway. Slipping her foot into her shoe and stepping forward she collided with his smooth chest. “Oh.” She gasped as she bounced off of him. “I. Uh, I should go, right? I mean it’s so late.”

Stepping back but resting one hand on her shoulder he waited for her to look at him. “It’s nearly morning, Andrea. By the time you go home and try to sleep it will no doubt be time to get up again. Stay in the guest room and go home when you are rested.”

Andrea shook her head no, but it was hesitant and her eyes showed how torn she was.

“Andrea, you’re in no shape to go home alone after that nightmare.” Mitchell paused before admitting. “To tell you the truth your dream freaked me out.” He looked down as he quietly added. “This house is so big and quiet, Andrea. Stay. Please?” Mitchell looked back to her eyes asking for an answer.

Together they ascended the stairs brushing against each other a couple of times along the way. Reaching the landing and the upstairs hallway a siren screeched by outside shattering the silence of the night. They both instinctively reached for each other’s hand holding it tight. Three doors down Mitchell stopped and opened the door to the guest room. He reached in to turn on the light and then stepped in so he could point out where extra blankets were tucked into the closet, some discarded pajamas were in a drawer and where the bathroom light was. Andrea followed him closely like she was afraid to be out of his immediate radius. To the side of the bed Mitchell turned to face Andrea and take his leave. “If there’s anything else I can get you…” He trailed off as Andrea stepped into his personal space.

“I want to feel all right, Mitchell. I feel safe with you.” Andrea pulled him closer to her and kissed him.

He tensed at first. The guest room, Andrea, and whirling emotions made him pause. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Andrea. I have feelings for you, but I know that you like Miranda.”

Andrea pulled at the buttons of his shirt. It had been untucked when they settled on the couch, but when she found his white undershirt she whimpered at the barrier. Andrea’s hands felt small against his chest as she pulled it up and roughly over his head. Placing her hands flat on his chest she murmured, “I want this, Mitchell. I can’t explain what I feel. Maybe I have you and Miranda connected in my head. But I need you to make me feel again, make me feel safe.”

Mitchell wanted this and his realization that Miranda had wanted this gave it the seal of approval. In fact, some part of his brain thought that this was perhaps the only way that the two of them would ever be together. He felt a sudden sense of urgency as Andrea began to kiss down his neck kissing her way across his skin. When Andrea roughly tugged on his belt and opened his trousers he was overcome with the realization that this was happening. His legs freed of their linen trappings, he reached for Andrea pulling her with him onto the bed. They lay facing each other passionately kissing and rocking back and forth against each other. Andrea pushed against Mitchell until she had crawled up on his body attacking his mouth with a frenzied passion. Reaching his hands up, Mitchell rested hot palms against the smooth skin of Andrea’s torso.

Abruptly she sat up and pulled her shirt off. In a fluid motion, Andrea reached back and unclasped her bra before she lowered herself over Mitchell to kiss him soundly on the mouth again. The feel of her naked breasts, nipples hard, against his flat chest made him moan. He opened his mouth fully to her kiss and brought his hands up to run along her back and hold her hips against his. He could feel the heat of her sex through her panties and his boxers. He felt driven by instinct and was glad his actions simply flowed through his body like reflexes he had always engaged in.

Desperate for more contact, Andrea rose up above him and began pulling at his boxers. Mitchell lifted his hips to help her and was surprised when Andrea reached down and simply slipped her panties off. Suddenly they were naked before each other and Mitchell’s breath caught in his throat. He leaned up on his elbows where he could see her in the dim light of the bedroom. Her body was even more beautiful than he had dared to imagine. “Kiss me, Andrea.” He said breathlessly.

Andrea crawled back up his body hovering over him on all fours. Her breasts dangled down so that only her nipples touched his skin teasing him. She kissed him as she rotated her body over and over him. Then she reached back guiding him until they were joined as one. Andrea continued to kiss him as she rotated and bucked back and forth above him. When she crossed a threshold of desire inside herself, she sat up with her hands on his chest and she looked deep into his eyes as she continued her journey toward climax.

Miranda or Mitchell—the build-up was the same. Inside his core, Mitchell felt the orgasm gathering like a coil inside him. As Miranda her breath had shortened and her legs had fallen open, but as Mitchell he breathed in slow breaths and held them slightly before letting it out with a moan and he tightened his legs as if he was focusing his passion up and into Andrea. The fight for eyes closed and eyes open was the same. He wanted to see Andrea just as Miranda had always wanted to see her lovers. The ultimate ripple of passion shaking throughout his body was the same as the spasms of joy Miranda experienced. Maybe it was the first time as a man, or the first time with a woman, or the first time love had truly entered into the picture—whatever it was—Mitchell felt the most overwhelming connection to Andrea as if they had always been meant for each other. Together they were finally home in each other. Mitchell felt his hips undulate on a reflex and he groaned as the sensations coursed through his body.

Feeling they were a part of each other, connected through this joining of their bodies and their souls through their eyes, Andrea and Mitchell pulsed forward through time until there was nothing else except their true selves joined in the moment. Mitchell was unsure, if he was Mitchell or Miranda, because he felt that Andrea saw inside of him to love more than just him or the Miranda that she knew, but the synthesis of both. For his part, or Miranda’s part, he knew that Andrea was a pure soul that completed whatever was missing.

It was in this purest moment where they were connected at the soul level that Andrea took them both over the edge where she crashed against his chest saying only three words before she lost consciousness, “I love you.”

From a lofty far away point of view, the Being looked down at the pure moment between them. Andrea’s ‘I love you’ was not for either Mitchell or Miranda, but was instead for that true existence inside both that was a beautiful pure soul. The Being smiled at that unleashing of soul. That pure soul was the reason that Miranda could not be allowed to die and sent to hell and it was also the same pure soul that was hidden behind all the rotten things that would have meant she was destined for heaven. It was the pure soul that had the potential for so much more on Earth and the Being hoped would find itself. “Finally.” The Being breathed out and smiled.

Mission accomplished, Mitchell was no longer needed. He drifted into a beatific sleep beside his soul mate, blissfully unaware of Miranda’s imminent return. Acting with quiet stealth the Being set the next set of events in motion in such a way to not disturb the deep satisfied slumbers of Andrea. She felt loved, safe and content. Little did she know how much she needed to cling to that feeling come morning time.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The re-union :)

**_The Quest—Part 4/4_**  
  
In her dream, Andrea was flying. She had been free to soar and she felt safe as she tested the limits of her strength and abilities. She awoke feeling rested, vibrant, and… She stretched her muscles reaching up to the—HEADBOARD!? Andrea’s eyes flew open and she twisted and turned to see the room she was in. She did not have a headboard and her mind launched into Runway hyperspeed to back track through her evening.  
  
She had dinner with Mitchell… She remembered waking up from her nightmare. Andrea sat up in the bed and clutched the sheet to her naked breasts. Andrea looked down and then lifted the sheet from her body to confirm the images that were now dancing in her head. Her naked body, Mitchell’s naked body, their undulating forms writhing together on the bed and that perfect moment before… Andrea covered her mouth with her hand—the moment before she said ‘I love you’ and collapsed into the blue eyes she loved and the embrace of safety.  
  
Andrea looked around her. It was the guest room in Miranda’s house and the daylight was beating against the windows. The bed was large enough for them both, but Mitchell was not beside her. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or saddened. Slowly, she gathered her clothes and checked her phone. Realizing it was mid-day, she rushed down the hall to listen at what she assumed was the door of the master bedroom. Peeking in she confirmed that no one was in the room. Beginning to worry, she checked the other doors on the floor. She smiled when she saw the twins’ rooms—such similar girls fighting to have such diverse personas. There were no sounds on the floor above her so Andrea went downstairs. Mitchell was in none of the rooms—the study, the lounge, the kitchen, and the dining room were all empty. Andrea stood forlorn in the foyer looking at the tables with flowers, the closet doors, and the stairs up into the Priestly household. She had been there loads of times full of anxiety, but this was unlike any of the times before. She felt unfinished. Miranda always dismissed people. Mitchell did his own version of this dismissal. Beside any of that it was the ‘morning after’ and Andrea didn’t like running out, or that Mitchell might have run out. She felt the need to have some kind of awkward conversation. She bit her lip. After what they shared, she didn’t think it would have been a bad morning. A complicated morning to be sure, but she couldn’t imagine it going poorly. Mitchell’s absence weighed heavily on her, but she checked her watch one last time and let herself out the door. She had to get home and get prepared for the night’s event at the Museum of Modern Art.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Nigel. You must come home this instant.” Emily was frothing at the mouth. Fashionably late had come and gone and Mitchell was nowhere to be found. Andrea had shown up distressed and started crying the moment that Emily’s eyes narrowed at her. In an alcove, Emily was about to lecture her about the stresses of their jobs without her being late also, when Andrea grabbed onto her arms.  
  
“He isn’t here?” Her brown eyes had turned red from crying and she was certain Andrea had lost her mind. A tight-lipped shake of her head was all the answer that Emily would give her. “He wasn’t there this morning and, and, and…” Andrea started babbling. Emily held her breath and counted in her head to ten. “I thought he just went to Runway or something. It just didn’t seem right to me that he would leave me at the house all alone though. You know?” Emily’s eyes were growing wider with every syllable that fell from her mouth.  
  
Emily closed her eyes and held up her hand for Andrea to stop talking. Mercifully, she fell silent. “Are you…” She started and stopped. The answer while helpful would be more information than she wanted. “Did you say MORNING? Andrea, did you say that he’s been missing, since this morning. Are you telling me?” Emily’s voice became harder with every syllable that she forced between her teeth.  
  
Andrea pulled herself together, her posture visibly straightening and her shoulders squaring. Her arms were held closer into herself and she took a deep breath. “Yes.” It was the whole answer—the answer to the questions both spoken and unspoken that needed to be cleared in the air.  
  
**Yes. I slept with him.  
Yes. He’s missing.  
Yes. This is all so fucked up.**  
  
Emily nodded and then flew into full Runway panic mode. “You. You. Do the coats.” She motioned that Andrea head in the direction of the coat closet as she yanked her phone out of her waistband. Andrea didn’t spare another second to wonder how Emily managed that particular feat—having her phone on her at all times and yet not visibly having it on her in a garish way. Stepping into the crowd, she heard Emily behind her, “Nigel. Nigel. You have to come home this instant.”  
  
Andrea was lost in the crowd then and her conversation was swallowed up.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Going so soon, ladies?” Jacqueline’s voice stopped them in the foyer. “I had hoped to see your new boss. Handsome they say, every bit of him Runway, but…” Jacqueline paused savoring her word choice. “He has a more human flair, n’est pas?”  
  
Andrea stepped closer to Jacqueline. Her lilting accent spilling the words off her tongue had gone straight to her heart. Emily’s hand at her back caused her to step to the side of Jacqueline.  
  
“Did I upset you, Miranda girl?” Jacqueline taunted her as Emily stepped by.  
  
“Trying to get your claws into anyone within reach, Jacqueline? You can’t handle Miranda or Mitchell, so you’re sniping at the assistants now? You’ve sunk so low since your defeat in Paris.”  
  
Jacqueline’s face fell further and further with each word that Emily uttered. It was like so many knives driven into her stomach. Emily and Andrea turned away and were gone before she had a chance to come up with a good recovery.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
It wasn’t until the sky had begun to lighten the sky that Andrea finally fell into a fitful sleep. All too soon her alarm was going off and she rose like a zombie to accompany Roy to the airport as he collected Nigel. Handing him coffee, she fell silent as she looked out the window at the blur of cars going by them. Nigel was exhausted and aggravated enough that he simply sipped the coffee then relaxed into the leather of the backseat. He knew that they were headed toward Runway, disaster, and Emily on high alert. He was thankful that Andrea was not babbling to fill the time or overcome nervousness. He spared a moment to look her over and acknowledge that she had changed. He wasn’t clear on what her role in this mystery was. Emily had been too wound up to completely make sense. He thought she had said something about Andrea sleeping with Mitchell.   
  
The car pulled up at Runway and he was about to open the door, when he felt her hand on his arm. He paused and looked back at her. “Nigel.”  
  
He smiled sadly at her. “In the elevator.” He said quietly. “Runway stops for nothing, Andrea.” He pat her hand on his arm and then opened the door. Andrea followed him quickly and they were able to catch an elevator immediately. “All right now. Tell me.” He said gently.  
  
Andrea took in a large breath of air and steadily examined the floor of the elevator car. “Mitchell didn’t show up at the museum last night.” Nigel pursed his lips a little impatience creeping in. “Well, he was missing in the morning as well.” She dared to look up at him and her eyes widened like saucers when she saw his raised eyebrows. “I. I. I was there that night and he…” She lowered her eyes to the ground again and quietly finished. “…was gone in the morning.”  
  
Nigel let the silence build between them. He wanted to be sure he gave her enough time to tell everything that she needed to say. He also was coming to terms with the idea that Andrea had in fact slept with Mitchell. Or Mitchell had slept with Andrea. He wasn’t sure why, but he thought that it made a difference. He knew that Mitchell was on some kind of quest to find love, but he would not have expected Andrea to fall within his radar. Although thinking about it, Nigel tilted his head as he looked at her once more—Mitchell had been taking Andrea with him to all events for a couple of weeks. Nigel finally said, “I see. I thought… Well, well, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. No one has heard from Mitchell, since yesterday morning when you noticed he was gone.” He had started to say that he thought she always had a thing for Miranda, but he held it back.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Oh, Nigel, thank God you’re here.” Emily nearly ran him over as she rushed to greet him. Andrea hung back trying to stay out of the fray.   
  
“Emily. There’s not a lot we can do. Have you contacted the police?”  
  
Her mouth dropped open and her breath stuttered as she fluttered like a fish. “No. I. Well.” She turned on Andrea. “You should call them. Go now.”  
  
Andrea scampered off to her desk area while the others went into Miranda’s office to debrief. They had taken to sitting on the couch there and had even turned the chairs from the desk around to create a conversation pit even when Mitchell was around.  
  
Nigel’s ring tone halted the conversation. “Andrea.” He said after a moment. She had been on hold with the police station but she hung up on them as soon as she heard her name.  
  
Nigel was on the phone and the three women waited in various levels of stress as he ‘hemmed’ and ‘hawed’ back to the person on the other end. “Can you spell that please?” He carefully wrote something down and then pronounced it back. Andrea and Emily looked to Serena hopefully and she nodded back.  **Hospital Geral de Bonsucesso.**  
  
He hung up and for the first time in a very long time, he smiled. It was a slow smile that lit up his face and caused a wave of relief to ripple out through the office. When he finally began to talk Andrea thought her knees would buckle and Serena nearly dragged her onto the chair with her.  
  
“The details are still unclea, but Miranda is on her way to the hospital in Rio. Apparently, she woke up at some remote monastery yesterday and demanded that she be brought back. The Brazilian officials are bravely making her stay in the hospital for a couple of days to make sure she is fit for the rest of the trip, but she is being moved to Rio.”  
  
Andrea hugged Serena and then Emily and just for good measure she hugged Nigel too. It would have been a little over the top, but then they were all hugging each other. After a few moments of giddiness, they realized that Miranda was on her way back and they had work to do. Smiling sheepishly at each other, Nigel pulled himself together. “All right then. We have some work to do.” They decided what phone calls to make, what statement to give when the calls began coming in and put together a list of what to bring Miranda up to speed on. They had rarely worked harder, longer or with less sleep but it was work they were all too happy to do. The face of Runway was on her way back and they were eager to prepare for her return.  
  
Finally falling backwards onto her couch, Andrea turned on the nightly news only to find herself shocked at the pictures of Miranda, Mitchell, and the story they told. “Oh my god! Mitchell!” Andrea picked up her phone and called Emily. “You have to go with me to the police station tomorrow.” Her face dropped as Emily refused her demand. “No, Emily, I need someone there with me. I need to file the missing person report.” She was about to resort to whining when she heard some muffled discussion on the other end of the line. When Emily came back on, she reluctantly agreed to go with her. “Thank you, Emily.” Andrea said flatly. Was it really too much to ask her to do this one thing with her? Then with a sneaky smile she added, “Thank you, Serena.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Team meeting.” Nigel called out from the Editor’s office.  
  
“Serena. Nigel’s called a team meeting.” Andrea chirped into the phone before following Emily into the office.  
  
“Who was that on the phone?” Emily couldn’t wait.  
  
“The Brazilian doctor, but let me wait for the rest for Serena.” Andrea sat down with her notepad in hand.  
  
Nigel waited and then as Serena stepped into the office he began, “I was just on the phone with the Brazilian doctor. Miranda will be arriving this afternoon. She was put on the plane in Rio last night.”  
  
Emily immediately began asking questions. “Is she traveling alone? What is her condition exactly? Is she coming to Runway? Does she have food requirements?”  
  
Nigel held up his hand to shush her. “Emily. I assume that she is traveling alone. The doctor sounded very relieved to have her out of his hair.”  
  
They all paused a moment to share a collective snicker at the thought of Miranda terrorizing the hospital staff. They were all glad she was coming back, but they were all also glad they were not there the moment she woke up.  
  
“Andrea, she has asked for you to bring her up to speed and…” He trailed off as he looked into her eyes. She merely met his gaze with her own questioning look and he continued on. “She needs help at home, Andrea. She has asked if you would stay at the townhouse to help her.”  
  
Andrea’s eyes watered as she blinked them in surprise. “I, what?”  
  
“She is going to need in home help. She has asked if you would do it.”  
  
“Asked?”  
  
Nigel nodded.  
  
“Oh. Of course. I mean. Of course.” Andrea began to fidget with her clothes. “Um, what time is she arriving? I’ll need to pack some things and go with Roy to the airport, right?” Quickly calculating the time, Emily called Roy and Andrea bustled out of the office to the subway and her apartment.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Andrea was a rush of activity getting Miranda from the airport, gathering her things, making sure she was settled in the back seat. She did not want to face Miranda just yet. She was afraid of looking into those blue eyes. At the house, she resumed her frantic preparations, fluttering around Miranda and around the house. She ordered food for the pantry, called the girls’ father, and generally avoided Miranda. For her part, the journey had been exhausting and she was grouchy. She couldn’t help herself from spouting out orders for Andrea making her come and go. She wanted Andrea close to her, it had been a few days, since she had seen her as Mitchell and the loss was devastating. That didn’t mean she was ready to look into those brown eyes. She wasn’t sure what would be revealed when the time came or what they each were prepared for.  
  
Andrea came to a stop next to Miranda’s bed. Their eyes met at last. Miranda felt Andrea looking at her like a physical caress. It was so intense that she felt Andrea could look right inside of her and know everything. Her heart pounded in her chest because she knew how Andrea’s skin felt, what her kiss was like, and what it was to hold her in her arms. Miranda frowned as she looked at her own arms, knowing that Mitchell’s arms might be very different than hers. A sliver of doubt sliced her heart and she grimaced. Andrea took this for displeasure and turned away, before she realized that she had not been dismissed. “Uh. What. What else can I do, Miranda?” She asked finally at a loss. Her hands brushed against the side of the bed absently.  
  
“I think, Andrea.” Miranda stopped, not knowing what direction to take. Knowing she wanted to go in one direction, but realizing that she needed to look a little before she leapt. “My leg, Andrea. Another pillow.” She tried for a gentle voice, but felt lost that all she could manage was tired.  
  
Andrea turned and went to get a pillow from the guest room as it was the only place she knew for sure there was a pillow. Entering the room, she gasped. The covers were still a mess and Andrea flashed on an image of herself pulling Mitchell closer to her.  
  
Miranda had come back as the ice queen that she always was, but Andrea’s heart yearned for her even more than it did before her absence. Somehow Andrea sensed a familiarity with Miranda that was hard to shake off. She knew that being familiar with Mitchell was not the same, and yet she couldn’t argue with the gut feeling she had. It was not nerve wracking to be in Miranda’s house and to be her caretaker. She had been nervous about it, but felt quite peaceful now that they were settled in. Andrea grabbed the pillow and took it back to Miranda. She mustn’t keep her waiting.  
  
Slipping the pillow under Miranda’s leg, Andrea wondered if this was as close as she would ever get to the woman of her dreams. Those blue eyes searched her as she stood back waiting. Andrea wanted so much in that moment that it had been Miranda she had shared her love with that night. Her throat dry Andrea blinked back sudden tears. Miranda’s arms were not the ones around her that night so warm and welcoming. A wave of that former safety washed over her as she looked at Miranda with those same eyes and her heart wanted so much that a part of her sheared off. The eyes had not changed. Blue eyes that sparkled and seemed to speak of so much more. Andrea wiped her face with her hands hoping for a dismissal. She told herself that Miranda was only thinking of Brazil and her time there. Miranda’s hand came into view and Andrea looked up into shining blue eyes. Starting to speak Miranda stopped before the first word even formed on her tongue. She cleared her throat and let her hand fall back to the covers. “That’s all.” She whispered.  
  
Falling onto the guest bed down the hall, Andrea curled around one of the remaining pillows. She buried her face in the leftover smell of Mitchell’s cologne and let the tears fall. “I will help Miranda in every way I can.” She told the pillow in her arms. “I will miss Mitchell. And I will just go on as I did before.” Andrea fell asleep as the exhaustion that she had kept at bay since the events of Miranda’s disappearance had first affected her life.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
A week later the balance of life in Miranda’s house changed again. It had been so long since she had seen her girls that Miranda couldn’t wait until she was healed to see them. Their arrival would be a blessing in that Andrea felt a lot of the awkwardness she felt around Miranda would be alleviated with their presence, but at the same time she was sad that she wouldn’t have Miranda to herself anymore either. They had slowly fallen into a routine that even gave Andrea hope that maybe she wasn’t delusional in her imaginings of Miranda having a certain fondness for her. With the twin’s arrival she doubted that potential would ever be explored. “Why didn’t she come to greet us?” The girls demanded as they spilled into the foyer with their backpacks and Roy trailed them with the suitcases. Andrea shook her head. She had forged a tenuous peace with the girls, but that didn’t mean that she thought they weren’t difficult.  
  
“Your mother has broken her femur and can’t get up and down the stairs very well. Basically, she plans to stay in the upstairs living quarters until her next doctor’s appointment.” Andrea didn’t believe in sugar coating things despite her sweet personality.  
  
“Oh! Is she all right?”  
  
“How long is she going to be up there?”  
  
“She’s been up there all week?”  
  
“How does she eat? What are you doing here?”  
  
Andrea sighed. She didn’t mind explaining things, in fact that was her plan all along, but after the question cannon that the girls had fired at her she felt like sending them to their rooms. “Andrea? Are the girls here?”  
  
“On their way up.”  
  
Caroline and Cassidy wasted no time heading for the stairs, but Andrea jumped in front of them. “Girls. You need to know that your mother is in a full leg cast and it hurts, if she moves too much. I think it’s more awkward than anything else. As to your other questions... I’m here to take care of whatever she needs in the way of medicine, food, and Runway business. I’m happy to help you with homework and other things, but I will not be okay with any of your pranks while I’m here. Understood?”  
  
Miranda’s voice carried down the stairs. “Girls?”  
  
Andrea stood blocking them with a questioning eyebrow raise.  
  
“Yes, Andy.” They glumly agreed.  
  
“I can’t help your mother, if I’m worried about you tricking me into breaking some rule I don’t know about, okay?”  
  
“Yeah. Andy. Thanks for helping her.”  
  
Andrea stepped out of the way and they bounded past her taking the steps two at a time.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Two weeks went by and Andrea had been astounded by how seamlessly she had found pieces of her life coming together. The twins were at first begrudging of her presence, but as they realized how much she did to make their mother comfortable—maybe even happy—they decided to give Andrea a chance to get to know them on their own. Andrea was glad to feel the wound of Mitchell’s disappearance being filled in, covered up, and all around forgotten as she formed an entirely new bond with Miranda. Gentle Miranda was driving Andrea insane. It was like she was the Miranda that Andrea thought she was in love with before Brazil—the woman, the voice, the hair. Yet this new Miranda was more like Mitchell, even while she was most definitely Miranda. It was confusing. It was alluring.  
  
Andrea loved Mitchell, but thinking about it at this point she was not sure what kind of love it had been. She wondered if she loved him exactly or something more than him? Perhaps she loved the core of him, which was why she had connected Miranda and Mitchell in the first place—they shared many fundamental attributes. Andrea relaxed as she let herself believe that she loved the same things about Mitchell that she loved about Miranda. It was just that the packaging was different and the ability to approach was more possible. Andrea wondered if beneath her cool exterior, Miranda wanted that connection just as Mitchell had. She knew she couldn’t do anything about it, but she hoped that she would be able to form a better understanding of Miranda while she was here.  
  
“Miranda? I have the book.”  
  
“Oh good. Come in, Andrea. Sit here. I want to see what you’ve learned.”  
  
Andrea bit her lip. Sit here meant to sit beside Miranda on the bed. What she had learned could encompass a whole host of topics. Andrea was understandably nervous.  
  
“Andy, you should be more comfortable around me by now.”  
  
Andrea gasped and Miranda looked up at her. Realizing her slip too late, Miranda carried on as if nothing had happened. “Did Emily fix the spread on 18 and 19? I hope that you are relaying all of the messages properly, Andrea.” Miranda fixed her with a look that she hoped was stern, even though she knew she couldn’t manage intimidating in this instance. “Andrea? Well?” Andrea nodded still a little dumbfounded. “Sit down then.”  
  
So in the third week, Andrea began to crawl into bed with Miranda to go over the book. It was not exactly a bed time story but it made Andrea fall into peaceful slumbers all the same. She reveled in the smell of Miranda lingering on her shirt when she climbed into bed. Visions of Miranda’s hands and echoes of her voice chased Andrea’s dreams all night long. More than once Andrea had woken up after having dreamed of Miranda’s hands on her pale skin. More than once, she had cried for the possibility that she thought could never be with Miranda, or had already gone with Mitchell.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“What time is my appointment, Andrea? I can’t wait to have this off my leg.”  
  
“Well, you know it’s not like your leg will be 100% even when they do cut that off of you.” Miranda fixed her with a glare. Andrea squeaked a little. She had not received a glare in some time and forgot just how powerful it was. “At one tomorrow.”  
  
Miranda shooed Andrea off the bed. Slowly, she shifted her legs to the side and grabbed for her crutches. “Let’s see what Cara has conjured up for dinner then, shall we, Andy?” She nodded toward the door and Andrea turned to go. When Andrea looked back she saw Miranda hobbling toward the bathroom. She had stayed off her leg as much as possible, but each week it became harder for her to resist getting out of bed and at least venturing into the study or even out on the upstairs landing for some fresh air. By week five, she had become irritable and Andrea finally suggested that they should dine together in the study. Andrea had even gotten over the fact that Miranda occasionally called her Andy. She found it unusual that it was such an important thing to her that Mitchell had called her Andy and then Andrea had thrown her off, while Miranda had always called her Andrea and when she said Andy, it threw her off. She wasn’t sure what to make of it and chalked it up to some kind of creepy brother/sister thing.  
  
Waiting in the study for Andrea, she filled her mind with a list of all the things she wanted to do once her cast was off. She had not even been to the offices of Runway in the six weeks she had been back. Nigel and Emily had each been by once a week, but it was not the same lying in bed or on the couch. The thrill of stalking through the Elias Clark lobby and then into the Runway floor scaring clackers and causing people to tremble had been missing from her coming back home experience. Even as Mitchell, she had caused a certain amount of quaking that was enjoyable. Miranda was certainly glad that even though she was planning a softer approach now that she was back, she still didn’t have to give up all of her little tricks.  
  
Eventually, Andrea came back with a full tray and some random bits as well that caused a raised eyebrow. “What is that you have brought up to dinner, Andy?” Miranda leaned forward to reach out and snoop at what was on the tray. Dinner appeared to be salad with a salmon fillet and au gratin potatoes. However, the tray also included a bowl with pieces of eggplant and another bowl with slices of cheddar cheese.  
  
“I’m sorry if it’s weird, Miranda. I just have such a craving these days for eggplant and...” She looked down and waved her hand out toward the bowls. “Cheese.” She added sheepishly. Looking down still, Andrea missed the look of shock on Miranda’s face and continued on in her ramble. “I just can’t get enough of it. Ever since Cara made that eggplant parmesan I realized that it’s all I want to eat. I just can’t get enough.”  
  
“You know when I was pregnant with the girls I used to eat that combination. I like each of those separately, but I’ve only really eaten them together like this, when I was pregnant.”  
  
Andrea stopped eating and looked into Miranda’s blue eyes. Her own filled with tears.   
  
“What’s wrong, Andy?”  
  
“I just. I just remembered that I needed to send Nigel the changes you want made for next week’s photo shoot.” Andrea stood up and turned from the room quickly, leaving Miranda to ponder the conversation in silence. She looked again at Andrea’s plate reviewing the conversation in her head.   
  
**Miranda craved those foods when she was pregnant.  
Her six-week appointment was the next day.  
Miranda let it tumble in her head stubbornly, not wanting to add up the pieces.  
Six weeks ago, she was Mitchell.  
Six weeks ago, Mitchell had sex with Andrea.  
Andrea was now eating pregnancy foods that Miranda craved.  
Finally, the pieces would not stay apart any longer.  
Miranda clapped a hand over her silent mouth.  
Andrea was six weeks pregnant with Mitchell’s (her) baby.**  
  
Reviewing the conversation with the Being in her mind once more, Miranda rolled her eyes and muttered, “You REALLY didn’t say anything about this.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Andrea? Are you tired of staying here?”  
  
“What? No. I. I really want to be here.”  
  
“You seem very distracted and you keep mentioning Mitchell.” Miranda let her comment hang there as she waited for Andrea to fidget and come up with a response.  
  
“Um.” Andrea’s face wrinkled in thought. “I am happy to be here. I’ve just not been feeling that great. I’ll focus more, Miranda.”  
  
Widening her eyes at Andrea she waited. “And?”  
  
Andrea grimaced, not wanting to discuss Mitchell with Miranda. In the last seven weeks, she felt that a friendship had formed between them. Mitchell came up in conversation from time to time, but it was always in passing not an in-depth conversation about him. Andrea felt that not really talking about Mitchell was a lie by omission. She was worried that the truth about Mitchell would ruin this newly forged friendship when Miranda learned she had not been forthcoming. “Mitchell was good to us in your absence. I’m glad that someone was able to keep Runway going at the proper level until you could come back.”  
  
“You miss him.”  
  
“No. Well, yes. But he’s not you.”  
  
Mercifully the twins rescued Andrea by shouting up the stairs that they were home. Miranda moved to go down the stairs with her cane and Andrea was quick to shadow her. All focus on their conversation was gone. Miranda only had her cast off for a week and she was in a hurry to get moving again despite the doctor’s admonition that she continued to stay off her leg as much as possible for a few more weeks.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Eight weeks had flown by with Andrea at the townhouse and Miranda working from home. The team was as tight knit as ever since they had to keep Runway going with constant communication from the townhouse. The first issue since Miranda’s return made its final approval. It gave everyone cause for celebration. Everyone was jubilant except for Andrea.  
  
A missed period freaked Andrea out, but a second missed one had her near breakdown. The week had come and gone and now she felt that she had to face the facts. Pregnancy test in hand and Miranda napping, Andrea slipped into the guest room where she had been staying and proceeded into the bathroom.  
  
Miranda woke after an unpleasant dream and slowly made her way down the hall. She paused outside Andrea’s door. She wanted to talk to her more and more every day. Miranda felt the same chemistry between them as she had when she was Mitchell, but she was uncertain of how to reach for what she wanted. As Mitchell, she had simply surged forward, and as Miranda she felt an invisible wall between what she wanted and what she could accomplish. Her desire for Andrea had been realized, while she was Mitchell and she felt that she had an unfair advantage, one that could cost her this new relationship with Andrea. She worried that when the truth was told it would be too much for Andrea to accept or understand.  
  
Miranda opened the door only to find the room empty. She was about to turn off the light and head down stairs, when she heard muffled crying from the bathroom. She approached the door knowing that she was violating Andrea’s privacy but wanting to comfort the woman she loved. “Andrea?” Miranda’s hand on the door felt futile and she lowered it to the doorknob. Increased crying on the other side of the door was her only answer. The doorknob gave easily and the door opened. Miranda’s heart broke as she took in the sad eyes of her lover. “What happened, Andy? What’s wrong?” Miranda leaned her cane against the wall and stepped closer to where Andrea was sitting on the toilet seat. Andrea held up the wand of the pregnancy test and Miranda knew in an instant that they had a lot more to talk about than feelings.  
  
“I.” Andrea sucked in air between sobs. “I had.” Miranda closed her eyes knowing the answer. “A one night stand.”  
  
Miranda stepped forward and hugged Andrea’s head to her body, smoothing her hair with her hands. “Andrea, we have so much to talk about.” Andrea threw her arms around Miranda and sobbed into her body. “It will be all right. I’ll be here for you.”  
  
Andrea pulled back and stood on shaky legs. She stepped away from Miranda in front of the sink. Closing her eyes, she decided to just get it over with. “It was your brother, Mitchell.”  
  
Miranda turned to face Andrea and waited for her to look at her. Andrea kept her eyes closed as she faced the mirror and didn’t dare to look at Miranda. She waited for the harsh words that were sure to come. When the hammer did not fall, Andrea at long last opened her eyes to look at Miranda in the mirror.  
  
Eyes sparkling with mirth, Miranda gently stepped toward Andrea pulling her arm so that they were face to face. “You’ve been holding back with me, because you didn’t want to tell me that, haven’t you, Andy?”  
  
Andrea’s eyes went wide and she nodded. Miranda was so close to her she could feel her warmth.  
  
“I’ve been holding back with you, because I have something I couldn’t tell you either. I didn’t think you’d believe it.” Miranda waited and when Andrea calmly waited for her to talk, she went on. “Do you remember your nightmare? Where I was beaten and left for dead?” Andrea nodded and tears began to fill her eyes. “It was what really happened, Andy. I was left for dead. A Being spoke to me and sent me back to Runway as Mitchell. I had to find someone who truly loved me, and I had to find a Runway employee that liked me despite my faults. It was you both times, Andy. It was always you and I hadn’t known it.” Miranda had reached up to cup Andrea’s cheek in her palm.  
  
Andrea leaned into the touch as she let the information sink in.  
  
“You were Mitchell?” She finally whispered out as she reached up and took Miranda’s hand in her own.  
  
“He was me, I was your one-night stand. That’s why Mitchell was freaked out by your nightmare. It was so close to the truth.”  
  
Big brown eyes pleaded with Miranda. “And you love me?”  
  
“Yes, Andy. I love you. I’m only sorry that I had to almost die and come back as a man to figure it out.”  
  
Andrea’s eyes searched Miranda’s face and seeing the love there, happiness washed over her. It was going to be all right. A little screwed up perhaps, but it was going to be all right. “I love you, Miranda.” Andrea said and pulled her in for a kiss.  
  
Pulling back, Miranda’s eyes sparkled, “Now, I need to get off this leg.” She nodded her head back and to the side, “I think there’s a bed in there.” She turned Andrea and gave her a gentle push in the right direction.  
  
Lying face to face on the bed, brown eyes searched blue eyes and hands gently explored each other. It had been two months of tension in the house between them, but now they felt that time had washed away and it had always been like this. “It was you?” Andrea asked as she cupped Miranda’s cheek and fought back tears of joy.  
  
“It was me, Andrea.” She pulled her in for a deep kiss. “You wanted me to feel all right. You felt safe with me.” Miranda pulled Andrea until she rolled up and lay on top of her. Reaching her hand behind her neck Miranda pulled her in for another kiss. Then she pushed Andrea up so that she was looking down at her. Miranda’s breath caught in her throat momentarily as her hands rested on Andrea’s thighs and she looked up at the beautiful woman she had made love to as Mitchell and now loved as Miranda. “You said you loved me and we fell into a beautiful sleep together. It was me, Andrea.”  
  
Above her Andrea’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “It was you.” She whimpered.  
  
“Kiss me, Andy.” Miranda breathed out as she reached her arms up to hold Andrea.  
  
Wanting to kiss her and so much more, Andrea crashed down into Miranda’s arms and their lips met in a fiery kiss. It was wet as their lips sucked lips and tongues licked tongues and they kissed fast and slow as their bodies undulated together. As the kiss deepened and changed and continued on and on, their hands roamed and found skin under clothes. Breaking their lip lock long enough to undress each other, they ultimately found themselves naked from head to toe and each moaned as their skin warmed against each other. “Make love to me, Miranda. I want to know it will all be all right. I want to feel safe in your arms.” Miranda pulled Andrea on top of her once again, until their bodies were aligned perfectly. Legs open and at an angle, a deep kiss, and Miranda’s hands on Andrea’s hips they began rocking together, until the orgasm built up between them. They kissed and kissed as they reached higher and higher peaks of pleasure. Miranda’s body shook as she watched Andrea fight to keep her eyes open. This tremor caused the same in Andrea and soon they were panting and shaking through a powerful mutual release. At the last moment, it was crystal clear to Miranda and she said, “I love you,” before she pulled Andrea close to her and they held each other through the aftershocks and into a pleasant slumber together.  
  
The Being slowly fanned its flushed face as it turned away from the viewpoint. “Finally.” Technically the tasks had been finished when Miranda was sent back, but the Being was nothing if not thorough. The Being justified the continued surveillance of the two women with the rationalization that Miranda Priestly often took a while to learn her lessons and that it was only due diligence to see that the two women did indeed get their happy ending. That it was awkward romantic tension for weeks followed by an emotional and hot coupling was only side bar to making sure that Miranda Priestly had truly learned from this lesson. At the desk the Being wrote a comment next to Miranda and then Andrea’s names and closed the book. Taking one last look at their naked forms slumbering together the Being waved a hand over the image of the sleeping couple pulling up a sheet to cover them.  
  
**_—FIN  
  
._**


End file.
